


You Belong Among the Wildflowers

by LibbyWeasley



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Regency, Courtship, Dancing, Eventual Smut, Happily Ever After, Multi, regency au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWeasley/pseuds/LibbyWeasley
Summary: The Earl of Perth Leopold Fitz, and second son Lance Hunter befriend each other at Eton, but it isn't until years later that they meet again, and along with Miss Simmons and Miss Morse, discover who they can really be together.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 91
Kudos: 48





	1. Prologue - Fitz; 1810

**Author's Note:**

> A big, big thank you to @agentofship for helping me with this! And this definitely wouldn't have happened without everyone in the Discord. You know who you are! <3
> 
> The title is from Wildflowers by Tom Petty (because my husband was listening to this).

There was some benefit to being in his last year at Eton. Mainly that his schoolbooks didn’t end up in the trees quite as much anymore. Of course, that didn’t mean that right now he wasn’t trying to pull down a book that was stuck between two branches.

“Need some assistance, Fitz?” Hunter’s voice came from nearby and Fitz spun around, finally spotting him sitting under a nearby tree. Hunter had a way about him, an easiness that made it easy for him to make friends. He always knew what to say, and what to do. So basically the opposite of Fitz. Fitz was awkward and gangly, far too studious to fit in with the others.

Except for Hunter. Hunter had come to his rescue when he’d first come up to school. Teasing the younger boys had been something of a sport and Fitz had been the target of many of them. But it wasn’t long before Hunter had befriended him, and the boys who picked on Fitz ended up with black eyes.

“I seem to have lost my books again,” he grumbled. “I can get them.”

Fitz poked at his book with a stick until it tumbled to his feet. 

“You know that all you have to do is remind them that you're the Earl of Perth and that you’ll ruin them if they keep stealing your things.”

Fitz snorted. “You should be an earl. I’d be better off as a second son.”

“Being a second son is not as easy as you think. I have expectations, just like you.”

“Expectations, yes. But not like me. I’m expected to marry well -- probably some brainless twit with a fortune -- have enough children to ensure the succession, and then devote all my energy to making the estate profitable so my line can continue.”

“True. But as a second son, once my brother’s wife bears an heir than it’s the army or the clergy for me, unless I can convince an heiress to marry me even without a title.”

“I’m certain you won’t have any trouble convincing a lady to marry you.” Fitz said the words mostly under his breath, but knew Hunter had heard him anyway. 

He knew one day he’d do his duty -- if not for himself, then for his mother. His father had died when he was an infant and she was eager to see her son take his place in the world. She had already spoken longingly of the day the estate would be filled with his children. So he would marry. But the idea of Hunter doing the same sent an odd sort of pang through him. They’d been fast friends since they’d met, but over the years that fondness had shifted into a warm sort of tingling that filled the air between them. Fitz knew what he was feeling was forbidden, at least forbidden in any sort of polite society, but it was pointless to deny it. 

“I don’t plan to marry.” The words were flat, and Fitz cursed himself for how they made his heart soar nonetheless.

“Oh? Any, ah, reason why not?” Fitz knew it was ridiculous to think there would be any sort of declaration from Hunter. Things almost assuredly weren’t like that between them. There had been some looks that could be described as heated. A few careless caresses that were most likely just a slip of the hand. But nothing more substantial. Nothing to pin his hopes to. 

“I don’t want to be bound to one woman. I don’t think it would be enough.” Hunter stared straight into his eyes and for a moment it felt like he could see right into Fitz’s soul, read the secret thoughts written there. It was terrifying. And exhilarating. “And I don’t think I could be unfaithful to whatever woman makes the colossal mistake of marrying me.”

“Wish I didn’t have to marry for bloody duty. I think I’d be happier if I could love who I want.”

Hunter snapped a twig between his fingers. “No one gets to love who they want.”

The air felt charged, the words having a deeper meaning than Fitz could explain. If only Hunter could love him. That would make this whole crazy world make sense. 

“What if we could?”

Hunter’s gaze locked on his was too intense, too probing, and Fitz let his eyes drop to Hunter’s lips. Lips that looked soft, but firm. Lips he’d seen smiling, smirking, turned down into a frown. 

He hardly dared to breathe as Hunter leaned closer, slow enough that they both had time to stop what was surely madness. But they didn’t, and then their lips were pressed together and the long kindling fire burst to life inside him. He felt warm and tingly, a weight lifting from him as his heart beat faster. 

And all too soon it was over. 

“Too bad we don’t always get what we want, love.”

Hunter’s voice was quiet as he stood and sauntered off, and before Fitz was able to form words in his mouth, Hunter was long gone. But the smile on Fitz’s face remained.

* * *

The day of that kiss would become a line of demarcation in Fitz’s life. There was the time before — before he knew what Hunter’s lips tasted like, before he was certain what love felt like, and before his heart had been broken.

Because after that day was much harder. He’d known his days of blissful ignorance were coming to an end as he’d be taking over running his estate and seeing to the succession. But it was much different losing Hunter at the same time. After that kiss, he only got a glimpse of Hunter as he left school suddenly. Rumors swirled around that his older brother had come down with a fever and Hunter’s father had called him home in case the worst happened. If Hunter became the heir he’d probably be married before the next Season.

Even though there hadn’t been time to say goodbye, Fitz waited for something. A sign. A letter. Some indication that the moment had meant as much to Hunter as it had to him. But it never came. 

A few weeks later he returned home, determined to learn everything he could about running the estate — his tenants, farming, and investing his family’s funds. It had been in the hands of his guardian for far too long and Fitz had some ideas for how to modernize some of the farming practices. Once he had things under control on his ancestral lands, he’d do his duty and find a wife. If there was one thing his years at school had taught him, it was that it really didn’t matter what he wanted, but he’d do what was necessary.

And he certainly wouldn’t waste any more time thinking about Hunter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of the Season leads to more complications than Fitz had been anticipating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is completely written, so I'll be posting chapters probably once a week or so. This story could have ended up being so much longer. There was so much to explore, and I had to choose to focus on just parts of it. Maybe someday it will get the 100k it deserves. Chapters alternate POV between all four main characters, though chapter 2 is from Fitz's perspective.
> 
> A big thank you to @agentofship who helped me keep everything straight with this fic and made it much better <3

The ballroom was darker than he’d thought it would be and full of people Fitz didn’t know — didn’t have any desire to know. He’d much rather be in his workshop, working on his ideas for new methods of irrigation. Or even with his man of business. 

Anywhere but here. 

But, as he kept reminding himself, the sooner he found a wife, the sooner he could go home. To Scotland. To his projects. To as far away from London as it was possible to be. 

He made a polite bow as he was introduced to yet another debutante, this one hardly looked to be out of the schoolroom. He had no interest in a woman who was barely more than a girl. He knew it wasn’t likely he’d find someone with an interest in science or engineering, but if he was going to be tied to someone for the rest of his life he’d like it to be to someone who could at least understand his interest. The girl currently batting her eyelashes at him was not that person. 

He had a list of ladies who he thought might be acceptable options. Coulson, his man of business, had only looked amused when Fitz had asked him to identify the bluestockings among the ladies on the marriage mart. He’d done a good enough job at righting his finances after years of Radcliffe running his estate into the ground that he wasn’t in desperate need of an heiress — though that certainly wouldn’t hurt. 

He let his eyes drift around the room again, itching to tug at his carefully styled cravat. He couldn’t imagine who thought such fashion was necessary. There were ladies in all shades of pastel, with darker shades on the married women, making them look like a flock of exotic birds. The thought amused him for a moment before a murmur rushed over the assembled guests, reminding him of why he was there in the first place. If he had to marry, then he wanted the mother of his children to be his partner as much as was possible. 

Someone jostled his elbow as they pushed by, crowding Fitz into the young lady next to him. 

“Excuse me,” he said, feeling uncomfortable as he gazed into the face of a woman with soft brown eyes and curls falling around her face. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all.” She gave him a little smile and extended her gloved hand. He took it in his and gave a little bow as he’d been taught. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“No, ah, we haven’t. I would have remembered.” Heat burned between them where their hands still touched, and he found himself hoping she was on his list. 

“I’m Miss Simmons, but you can call me Jemma. I don’t have much use for formalities.”

Jemma Simmons. She was definitely on his list. Coulson seemed to think she was something more than a bluestocking, and he was probably right. She was direct, but he didn’t detect anything other than kindness in her words. He admired a woman who could flaunt the proprieties right in the middle of a crowded ballroom, surrounded by the ton. She was also rumored to have a sizable dowry.

“And you are?”

He released her hand, realizing he’d been staring at her for far too long. 

“Fitz. Leopold Fitz. But just Fitz is fine.”

“Fitz…you’re the Earl of Perth!” she exclaimed happily. “I saw your article on the mechanics of a machine for better irrigation. I thought it was lovely.”

Music started to play again and Miss Simmons sadly looked down at her dance card. 

“Would you care to dance?” The words slipped out without him realizing he was about to say them. 

“I’d love to.” The smile that had bloomed over her face earlier returned, and he found himself wanting to see it all the time. Maybe courting would turn out to be easier than he’d hoped. 

His sense of contentment lasted until he was moving across the dance floor with Jemma. Every time they came back together, he felt a tingle of awareness, like he was meant to be with her. But then she spotted the source of the commotion earlier. 

“Captain Hunter,” Miss Simmons breathed. 

He had started to think of her as _his_ , so hearing Hunter’s name in that breathy little voice was like being doused with cold water. 

He craned his neck to see, and sure enough, there was Hunter. He had the same swagger. The same easy grin. But there was a shadow over his expression that hadn’t been there before. Fitz would have recognized him anywhere, but seeing him here, just at the moment when Fitz had decided to move forward with his life really felt like the universe had a point to make. 

His gaze stuck on Hunter, their eyes locked for a few beats before Hunter’s gaze slid past, nothing more than a flicker of recognition in his gaze. He knew it had been a long time ago, before Hunter had gone off to war and come home a hero, but it still hurt. That kiss had meant everything to him and was probably nothing more than a flirtation for Hunter. Just one in a long line. 

“Fitz? Are you alright?” Jemma’s voice pulled him back to the present. 

“Yes. Yes, quite. I just...used to know him.”

“You did?” The dance had ended and Jemma guided him out onto the terrace. “He’s terribly dashing, isn’t he?”

“Yes —“ Fitz shook his head. It was bad enough that he was still acting like a young pup when it came to Hunter, but he couldn’t let it cost him a chance to marry Miss Simmons. “We were boys at school together. I didn’t realize he was home.”

“Tell me about him? All I know is what I’ve heard from the ladies spreading gossip and I’m not sure if it’s even possible for most of that to be true.”

Jemma was speaking fast, but she hadn’t let go of his arm and it felt...nice. Fitz was certain that he wasn’t supposed to start a courtship by talking about another man, but seeing Hunter again had opened up a piece of his heart he’d kept closed off.

“He was...the best friend I had at school.”

Fitz didn’t know what else to say. Everything else felt too personal, like she might guess his feelings. She was studying him in a way he wasn’t used to being studied. Usually people spared him a glance and then moved on. But she was looking at him like she might discover something if she tried hard enough. 

“Hmmm.”

“What does that mean?”

“It just means that if you were such good friends, you must have a lot in common.” She tilted her head as she studied him. “I think you are also quite noble and brave. And it’s obvious you are very handsome. Just like Hunter.”

Fitz felt his neck grow hot at her words. He had never considered himself handsome like Hunter. Hunter had a certain charm that just made you want to fall under his spell. Fitz wasn’t anything like that. But Miss Simmons didn’t seem to be the kind of lady who would pander to his ego, so she at least must think her words were true. 

The dance over, he searched for a reason to stay in her company. She may be a strange sort of creature, but he rather liked her for it. 

“Would you like some lemonade?” he finally asked. 

“I’m quite parched. Lemonade sounds lovely. Though I wouldn’t say no to something stronger.” Her last words were whispered as if he was in on some sort of secret. 

Laughing, he went to fetch them both glasses of lemonade. He needed his wits about him if he was going to make an effort at courting her. 

They talked and laughed, drawing a few dark looks, but Fitz was too entranced to care what anyone else thought and Jemma had been quite flippant about the whole thing when she’d noticed one of the pricklier matrons staring at them pointedly. In her third season she was closer to being on the shelf than being a debutante and she claimed to only enjoy London for the museum and the chance to discuss the most recent scientific innovations. 

“Have you read the new article by James Simon? Biology isn’t my area of expertise, but his articles are always very well done.”

He looked expectantly at Miss Simmons, hoping he’d stumbled upon something they had in common. A slight frown tipped down the corners of her mouth before she launched into a very thorough discussion of the article. By the time he heard the strains of music starting again they were finishing each other’s sentences. He offered his hand without even thinking about it and when she placed her smaller, gloved hand in his the rightness of it all settled somewhere in his belly.

“That’s bold of you, Fitz,” she murmured as they moved towards the floor. 

“Hmmm? Bold? Why would you say that?”

“I didn’t expect to get to waltz with you tonight.”

Before he could do anything else she was in his arms, their bodies a little too close to be proper. He was very aware of how much smaller she was and how much he wanted to protect her and her brilliant mind from the rest of the world and keep her all for himself. But that wasn’t right either. He didn’t want to lock her away like a pet in a cage. He wanted to help her share her gifts. That was better.

They weren’t the most graceful pair as they moved across the floor, but that was more than alright. By the time he returned her to her chaperone — who was doing a very poor job at her task if he was being honest — he had a promise for a dance at the next ball and plans to head home as quickly as possible. His courtship of Miss Jemma Simmons had begun and he had no need to meet the other ladies on his list. 

With a smile on his face and a bounce in his step, Fitz made his way towards his carriage. 

His good mood lasted until he found himself in the path of Captain Hunter. The man was surrounded by a bevy of beauties, and he was laughing and charming each of them in turn. Fitz hadn’t been in town long, but he knew that more than a few of the more notorious widows were there fawning over Hunter. He changed course as inconspicuously as possible, part of him hoping Hunter noticed the cut direct, and found himself face to face with a tall blonde.

“Help me,” she mouthed, taking his arm and guiding him towards the tall windows on the opposite side of the room.

“I’m sorry, Miss —“

“Morse. Barbara Morse. But please never call me Barbara.”

“Of course not, Miss Morse.” Fitz wasn’t sure what was happening, but he was certain this was not the way that balls were meant to go. “Leopold Fitz, at your service. But never call me Leopold.”

He looked at her as her laugh, low and throaty, found his ears. She was tall. Taller than him. Taller than most of the men in the room. And she held herself with a confidence that made her seem even taller. Her dress was blue — somewhere past the pale, washed-out colors of the younger misses, but not as bold as the jaded matrons — and brought out her eyes. 

“I meant...my friends call me Bobbi.”

“I don’t see how we could be friends. We just met.”

“Ah, but you just rescued me, a damsel in distress.”

She smiled and he was captured. Somehow he didn’t think she needed to be rescued. And certainly not by him. But then a thought occurred to him. “Miss Barbara Morse? I thought you were betrothed —“

“To Hunter. Yes. I was.” Her words were clipped and her tone seemed to indicate she didn’t want to discuss it. But she continued nonetheless. “It was arranged by our parents. I set him free as soon as I was able.”

“You didn’t want to marry him?”

She fixed him with a glare. “I didn’t want to be a pawn. We hardly exchanged more than a dozen words of consequence during our betrothal. Talking was never our strong suit. And I refuse to marry a man just because I have a fortune. But from the way he’s behaving I’d say he’d break the heart of any girl silly enough to fall in love with him.”

Or any boy, Fitz silently added. 

“He didn’t used to be like that. Probably has to do with him being a war hero. I heard he has a scar and everything.”

There were many who saw scars gained in battle as a badge of honor, but to Fitz it was only a sign of how close Hunter had come to death. And that was something he didn’t want to contemplate. 

“Yes. Well, the battlefield isn’t the only place a man can prove his worth.”

Fitz wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, or what plans Miss Morse had for him, but when the music struck up he obediently requested the dance, which she most graciously accepted. 

Fitz almost cursed aloud when he heard the first strains of the waltz, and found himself unintentionally leading a beautiful woman onto the dance floor for the second time that night. 

Dancing with Bobbi was nothing like dancing with Jemma. She was graceful and sure of herself, carrying Fitz through the dance even though he was always approaching the utter disaster of tripping over his own feet — or hers. But somehow it was perfect. She was the kind of woman who would be an equal, never feeling like she had to bend to his will.

And that was when he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It would be just his bad luck to meet two marriageable women in the same night, who for some unknown reason seemed to have taken an interest in him as well. How much simpler it would have been if he had managed to flee after his dance with Miss Simmons — Jemma — as he had planned.

But with the warmth of Bobbi’s skin beneath his hand and the way she looked at him made him want more than a kiss from her. Possibly a whole lifetime wouldn’t be enough. They continued moving around the floor, his mind a jumbled mess, when he saw Jemma again. She was practically floating across the floor as she danced, joy etched on her face. He was glad she was enjoying herself. She seemed to have a love for life that he envied a bit. 

She turned and the face of the man she was dancing with appeared. The face of the man who was holding her entirely too closely. Captain Lance Hunter. This time when their eyes met, even though it was only for a brief moment, Fitz was certain Hunter had recognized him. Heat raced through him as if he was trapped between two fires — Bobbi on one side and Jemma and Hunter on the other. 

Jemma and Hunter. The thought made him squirm and Bobbi tilted her head at his expression. He could tell she hadn’t missed his reaction, though, thankfully, she’d never guess exactly what had made him uncomfortable. 

They finished their dance, exchanging all the appropriate pleasantries, and Fitz did his best to wipe away the image of Hunter holding Jemma in his arms.

“Have you been suitably rescued?” he asked, trying to tease a smile from her lips as he led Bobbi away from the dance floor. She hadn’t stopped studying him and he wondered exactly how much she could see. 

“Not yet.” Her smile was a little cryptic, but she led him out onto the balcony and Fitz found he was willing to follow her anywhere. “I believe you are supposed to kiss the fair maiden after you rescue her.”

“That, ah, that’s not entirely proper,” he objected. Propriety dictated that he object. That he protect Bobbi’s innocence. But considering she was the one propositioning him for a kiss, he was probably at a much greater risk of being corrupted by her than the other way around. 

“Isn’t it?” They walked into the shadows overlooking the garden, probably a popular place for couples wanting a few minutes alone, away from the prying eyes of mothers and other chaperones. “I find the things that are most forbidden are the ones most worth doing. And the best way to learn about someone is to see how it feels to kiss them.”

Fitz stared into her eyes, the moonlight softening her features. She leaned slightly towards him and he closed the distance, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. His arms around her back, he could feel the strength beneath her softness. She was a goddess and he intended to tell her so. But then she captured his lips again, and the world melted away except for the feel of her beside him. Bobbi was right. This was the best possible way to get to know someone.

* * *

Leaving the ball for the second time that night, Fitz nearly made it entirely to his carriage before being stopped again, this time by a man stepping out from the shadows. 

“Fitz.”

Even if he hadn’t seen him, Fitz would recognize that voice anywhere. They were both older, but the memory of the last time they’d spoken — kissed — was etched into his memory. 

“Hunter.” He cursed himself for how breathy his voice came out, though to be fair he’d just indulged in nearly a quarter of an hour of kissing Miss Bobbi Morse. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Hunter laughed and Fitz scowled at him. He was trying to be proper. Aloof even. It was probably considered bad form to start demanding answers from Hunter about why he’d never written or what that kiss had meant. 

“Considering the fact that you’ve been looking at me all night like you want to take me to bed, I think that’s a lie.”

He hadn’t been doing that, had he? But either way it didn’t really matter. No matter what Hunter had said all those years ago, he was clearly searching for a wife now. And so was Fitz. Whatever boyish fantasies he may have held needed to stay just that. Fantasies. 

“I’m searching for a wife.” Fitz decided to stick with the simplest version of the truth. 

“I noticed,” Hunter said dryly, stepping closer. “How did you enjoy waltzing with my former betrothed?”

There was an edge to his voice that Fitz didn’t recognize. He wasn’t sure if it was anger, or jealousy...or desire. Could Hunter be experiencing the same feelings Fitz had when seeing Jemma in Hunter’s arms? Now that was an interesting thought. But was it Bobbi he desired? Or Fitz? That wasn’t a question he could just ask.

“Bobbi is…” Fitz hesitated, not sure how much he wanted to share with a man he hadn’t seen in half a decade. 

“She’s a hellion. I know.” The words weren’t kind, but the way Hunter said them made it almost seem like he admired her. “She threw me over as soon as it was clear that my brother would survive and my nephew would take my place as heir.”

“She said she set you free.” Fitz couldn’t help but repeat Bobbi’s words. He shook his head. Hunter was beside him now, entirely too close. “And how did you enjoy dancing with Miss Simmons? I didn’t think you had a great interest in the sciences.”

“I have an interest in a great many things.”

Fitz rolled his eyes. Somehow Hunter had managed to become even more cryptic. But he spotted his carriage, finally reaching the front of the drive. 

“This is my carriage. I was just going to return home. So unless there’s anything else —“

“There is, actually.” Hunter gave a slight bow to a passing lady being handed up into a carriage before giving Fitz a meaningful glance. At least he thought it was meaningful. 

Fitz sighed. As much as he wished he could just walk away, he’d knew he’d take whatever he could get with Hunter. Even if it broke his heart all over again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Bobbi try to figure out what their lives will look like after the Season. What they find out may be a lot more than they expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently today is not Thursday...but better late than never. As always all the thanks to @agentofship <3

“Miss Simmons,” the butler intoned in an even voice, though hints of amusement shone through the cracks in his somber facade. “Another bouquet.”

“Oh, it’s lovely.” Jemma stood, taking the flowers the butler proffered. “Roses this time.”

Once her mother was certain no eligible gentlemen were about to come calling — not that they had in the past three years so Jemma didn’t know why her mother thought today would be any different — she had left Jemma and Bobbi to their tea and science. Apparently it was unbecoming to be knowledgeable about science, though her mother was considerate enough to make herself scarce knowing Jemma would do just as she pleased with or without her mother’s approval. 

“And who are these from?” Bobbi asked. “From Fitz again? Seems like you made quite the impression on him.”

She set the roses next to a colorful arrangement that included the most beautiful daisies she’d ever seen. Fitz had been paying attention when she’d mentioned them the night before during their discussion of botany. 

“No, not Fitz.” Jemma cast an eye towards Bobbi, uncertain as to her reaction. “These are from Hunter.”

“Hunter. Really? He never seemed like the sort for flowers.”

Jemma laughed. “I’m certain you’ll find a bouquet in your parlor as well when you return home. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

“And he couldn’t keep his lips off you,” Bobbi retorted.

“You make it sound so sordid. But it was really quite lovely.”

“I’m sure it was.” 

Bobbi seemed to be teasing, but Jemma wanted to be sure. “You don’t mind, do you? I know you broke things off —“

“I’m not going to tell you who you should or shouldn’t marry.”

“Marry? I wasn’t thinking about marriage.”

“No?” Bobbi seemed to be searching for something on her face. “Because he is. And if that’s not what you want, then —“

“How can you be so certain? Men sow their wild oats all the time. Or so I’ve been told.”

“Because he was at a ball. And he was _dancing_.”

“That doesn’t seem very scientific. What about Fitz? He was dancing.”

“Yes. He is looking to marry as well.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Jemma threw up her hands in defeat. 

“I’ve heard the gossip. He has his estate in hand and is now seeking a bride to secure his line.” She smiled sweetly. “And he was dancing. And kissing ladies in the garden.”

“What? Who was he kissing?”

A little rush of something hit her at the thought of Fitz kissing someone in the garden. Not that she hadn’t thought about doing it herself. It just hadn’t seemed like the right time. 

“Me.”

“Oh, of course.” Jemma prodded the flowers in the bouquet, needing to keep her hands busy as she thought about Bobbi kissing Fitz. “It makes perfect sense that he wanted to kiss you. You’re quite beautiful.”

She finally forced herself to turn and met Bobbi’s gaze.

“Jemma?” she said gently, seeming to understand the roiling emotions inside her. “Is there something you wanted to tell me? Something about Fitz? If you plan on marrying him, then I —“

“Oh!” Heat flooded her cheeks. “No. I don’t know. I just — I wouldn’t have objected if he’d wanted to steal a kiss. He’s quite brilliant. He’d even read my latest article and wanted to discuss it.”

“And we all know that science is the way to your heart.”

Bobbi gave her a playful hug, pulling her close for a second and Jemma inhaled the scent of rose water.

“Was he a very good kisser?” Even though it felt like a dagger might be lodged in her belly she was so conflicted, she really wanted to know. Kissing Hunter had been more than she had imagined it could be. More overwhelming. He’d done things with his tongue that she hadn’t realized were possible. That should have been enough. 

“He seemed...inexperienced. But he was gentle and considerate.” Gentle. Maybe she’d been meant to kiss Hunter instead after all. “What’s that look for?”

“Hunter wasn’t gentle at all.”

Bobbi smiled at her, looking for all the world like she’d just proved some sort of scientific theory. 

“Do you remember the evening we met?” 

The direction of Bobbi’s question was surprising, but the memory made Jemma feel warm inside. She had been lucky to meet Bobbi. Not all of the young ladies understood her passion for science. None of them really. Except for Bobbi. She’d been her anchor through the last two Seasons. 

“Of course. I could hardly forget it. It isn’t every evening when I have to hide from my mother lest she see my torn skirts.”

“You’re lucky you only snagged the hem trying to scale the wall in Lady Victoria’s garden. What were you doing again?”

“Trying to get a better look at the stars. I thought I saw some shooting stars. Which were far more interesting than what was happening in the ballroom.”

“And do you remember what I told you?”

Jemma frowned at her, not sure how this was relevant to their current conversation about kissing Hunter and Fitz, but answered her question anyway. Bobbi had a way of making a point in such a logical way that Jemma would reach the proper conclusion before she’d finished her argument. 

“You said that if I wanted to catch a husband I should at least pretend to be interested since men seem to put quite a bit of stock in that sort of thing.”

“And you told me you weren’t interested in marriage, but you were interested in biology, particularly anatomy.”

There was silence between them and Jemma wasn’t certain what it meant. She held her breath, hoping that Bobbi wasn’t about to discover the secret she’d held so closely these past two years. She’d tried to tuck her feelings away, but somehow they always kept popping out of her jewelry box.

“Let’s go to the greenhouse.” The words burst from Jemma before she could stop them, but the tension in the room had already become too thick and she wasn’t sure she wanted to explore her own thoughts, let alone Bobbi’s. “I have some new cuttings I’ve been wanting to show you.”

“Alright.” Bobbi studied her with a critical eye. “Let’s go to the greenhouse.”

* * *

Jemma led the way to the greenhouse, her private space for thinking and doing her research. The way her skirts swung as she moved did nothing to hide her agitation and it made Bobbi smile. Not that she wanted Jemma to be agitated, but that she had the ability to make her feel that discomfort. Men in general had always been a threat to their friendship, but Fitz and Hunter were the first solid proof they had that it was more of a reality than a threat. 

Kisses turned into promises and the next thing they’d know, they’d probably both be married and never get to spend the kind of carefree time together like they did now. And Bobbi wasn’t going to let that happen without showing Jemma what was possible. And _showing_ Jemma was always the preferred option, otherwise she’d overthink it.

“Here they are, right over here.”

“Jemma --”

She turned and Jemma was there and then their lips were pressed together. She couldn’t have said which one of them had moved first. Bobbi had meant to, but she actually thought it had been Jemma. 

The kiss was sweet until the moment Jemma’s tongue traced her lower lip. Then there was a hint of fire that sent a tingle through her. Jemma certainly was a fast learner. She moved her tongue against Jemma’s and inhaled at the gasp from her lips.

It was everything she’d hoped it would be...and so much more.

Bobbi moved her arms down to Jemma’s waist, before tracing a finger up the thin fabric of her gown. Jemma mimicked her movements and before long their hands were wandering quite a bit more than she’d expected. They were obviously compatible as friends, and the attraction between them was undeniable. She just hadn’t anticipated Jemma’s reaction to be quite so enthusiastic.

“Bobbi...this is incredible. I haven’t ever felt this way before.” Jemma tore her lips from Bobbi’s and she wanted to follow, but she knew they needed to talk first.

“Not even with Hunter?” It wasn’t an entirely innocent question. The thought of losing Jemma to Hunter had rankled. She was somewhat mollified to know she’d made Jemma feel something no one else ever had before.

“Not even close.” Jemma tried to press another kiss to her lips, but Bobbi stopped her. “Do you think…”

Her words trailed off and Jemma bit her lip, so she smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “Do I think what?” Bobbi asked.

“Maybe I just...just enjoy the fairer sex.”

“Maybe you do. But it doesn’t have to mean that.”

Jemma looked back into her eyes, the question clear on her face.

“It is possible to enjoy both men and women.”

“And is that what you enjoy?”

“Not at the same time.”

It wasn’t the sort of joke that was entirely appropriate, but she needed something to break the look of concentration on Jemma’s face.

“Is that done?” A small smile crept over Bobbi’s face. This was what she loved about Jemma. After what had to have been a very surprising kiss from her best friend, she was more than willing to follow the thread of curiosity much further than she’d considered.

“I’m sure it is. If you consider the biology --”

“Yes, I can see that it would be entirely possible. Do you think? No, I don’t suppose we could--”

Bobbi rolled her eyes and pulled Jemma close again. This time there was more urgency when their lips met. Jemma seemed determined to explore Bobbi the same way she approached her experiments -- as thoroughly as possible until there was nothing more left to uncover. The kiss deepened and she held back a moan, not wanting to scare Jemma off. Not just yet anyway. She didn’t know where this was going, but if it didn’t stop soon she wouldn’t be responsible for the outcome. 

Jemma’s hands moved down her back, smoothing her dress over her hips, and Bobbi leaned into her touch, that familiar desire settling inside her. She brought her hands up to Jemma’s cheeks, tracing her tongue over her lips so there was no mistaking her meaning. Jemma hesitated for a moment before looking down and bringing her hands slowly down Bobbi’s neck, dragging fingertips across her shoulder and collarbone. It made Bobbi truly regret the modesty of her day dress. 

“Jemma --”

“Is that alright?” Jemma asked the question with an air of innocence, but Bobbi didn’t miss the fact that she made no move to remove her hands from where they were now cupping and kneading her breasts through her dress and corset.

Apparently she shouldn’t have worried about scaring Jemma with the intensity of her feelings. 

Fire jumped through her veins, sparking everywhere Jemma touched her, a mix of innocence and desire that Bobbi hadn’t quite thought possible. She moved her hands to Jemma’s waist, holding her securely in place as she captured her mouth again, and started pulling Jemma’s skirts up so she could touch bare skin. Women’s clothing was overly complicated on a normal day, but it made amorous activities nearly impossible. Which was almost certainly part of the design.

She skimmed her fingers over the top of Jemma’s stocking, and let one finger drift to the inside of her knee. Bobbi looked up at a rush of breath from Jemma’s lips. For a moment she thought Jemma might be terribly shocked at the liberty, but the pleased sigh was anything but shocked. 

“Bobbi...show me. Please.”

“I’m not sure I know how.” Bobbi certainly wasn’t innocent and before today she would have even considered herself experienced, but there was a world of difference between being with Hunter and being with Jemma. 

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” Jemma answered, pressing her body closer.

It was hard to think with Jemma looking at her like that, her eyes dark and lips swollen, but all she felt was lust and love when Jemma tugged her down beside a rose bush.

* * *

Bobbi couldn’t keep the smile from her lips that evening -- even though she was attending the most tedious musicale of the season. Normally this would be one of her least favorite events, but Jemma was sitting nearby and each time they exchanged a glance she could almost feel Jemma’s touch, inexperienced but still full of that certainty she had when it came to her research. She felt as giddy as a girl. Almost like she had all those years ago before she realized Hunter had no intention of being the husband she craved. Being told his heart already belonged to another despite the passion they’d shared had been enough to cool her emotions.

She appreciated his honesty at least. But seeing him back in town was harder than she’d thought. She’d spent too many nights alone thinking of what it might be like to be his bride. And now Jemma was suffering from the same affliction, it seemed.

She clapped her hands respectfully as Miss Raina finished singing while Lady Kara accompanied her on the pianoforte. It wasn’t half bad. If one liked that sort of thing. Which Bobbi most certainly did not. 

Jemma caught her eye again and Bobbi nodded towards the retiring room. They deserved a bit of a respite from this torture. She could only keep that mildly pleasant expression on her face for so long, and she’d heard Tess play before. It would be a test of her skills of proper etiquette at the very least.

But once they were alone in the retiring room, fussing over an imaginary tear in Jemma’s gown, the words that Jemma whispered weren’t at all what Bobbi had been expecting. It was one of the things she loved about her, but in this case it hurt a little. Or quite a bit actually.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said this afternoon. And I was thinking that maybe I hadn’t met the right sort of man yet.”

“The right sort of man for what?” Bobbi had a sinking feeling that she knew exactly what Jemma was saying.

“What we did today was amazing. And I certainly want to do more of that.” The words were still whispered, but now they were accompanied by a very fetching flush on her cheeks. “But you know that we both have to marry, someday. Someday soon most likely. I have decided I want to stay with you --”

“You know that isn’t possible --”

“But it is.” Jemma waved her hand, dismissing Bobbi’s words. “We just have to find husbands that are compliant...and not too demanding.”

Bobbi raised her eyebrows and shook her head slowly. Sometimes Jemma seemed completely unaware of how the world around her worked. “I haven’t found a man I’d want to spend the afternoon with, let alone the rest of my life.”

“But we’ll have each other. Getting married will just fulfill our duty to our families and free us to live the lives we want.”

“I think you’re forgetting the other complications that come along with husbands. They generally want to engage in marital relations, and want their wives to be a broodmare until their lineage is secure. That isn’t the life I want.”

“Well, yes. I know.” Jemma looked a little less certain, but she was still vibrating with tension. That made Bobbi nervous. “That’s why I wanted to take a lover this season. Learn all I can about the marriage bed so there will be nothing to fear when I secure a husband.”

“Oh, Jemma. You know that’s not how it’s done, dear.”

“Yes, I know, but I’ve been thinking that you were right and maybe with the right man it could all be quite enjoyable. I know that man isn’t likely to be my husband. But I thought maybe...maybe your Captain Hunter?”

A hunger she hadn’t imagined still burned inside her flared at the thought of Hunter. Or, more accurately, Hunter and Jemma. She thought she’d moved on, but the night they’d spent together had been the great rebellion of her youth. She’d been resigned to a marriage arranged by her parents -- and his -- but she’d refused to go into it as an innocent. Hunter hadn’t disappointed. She’d never found another man who made her feel that lightness and hope. It had been a relief when she realized she could call off the betrothal. It would have been too easy to lose herself if he’d been a part of her life. But even then she’d still followed his progress as much as she was able, happy to know he’d returned home safely following Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo.

“Hunter is quite…” She cast around for the right word. “Proficient.”

“I thought so.” Jemma looked at her from the corner of her eye, obviously trying to be discreet, but Bobbi had way too much experience watching her. “And that was from first-hand research?”

“If you are asking if I had intercourse with him, then the answer is yes. And if you are asking if he was good at it, then the answer is yes. But what about Fitz instead? I saw you dancing with him and you seem to be well-matched.”

“Fitz shares my scientific interests, and he was interested in me as a person, but I’m not sure he’d be willing to engage in marital relations without an actual marriage.”

Bobbi had to agree with that assessment, but she wondered if a few nights of stolen kisses would change his mind. He was far too noble by half, but she didn’t think he was immune to her — or Jemma’s — charms. 

“Maybe not. But he wouldn’t be a bad choice for a husband. He seems kind at least. And smart.”

“Yes, he’s all those things. And very handsome. But he lives in Scotland. I can’t imagine it would be easy to see you if I married him.” Jemma shook her head and Bobbi suspected the thought had already crossed her mind. “Which isn’t even worth considering given that he hasn’t asked. And he might not if he’s slipping out into the garden with you. How do you know you're not the one he’s thinking of asking?”

Bobbi would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it. Fitz was sweet. And passionate. Marriage to him wouldn’t be terrible. It might even be quite wonderful. She thought he might be a man she could fall in love with. But Jemma was right. He didn’t seem like the kind to spend time in town. 

She shook her head. It wasn’t even really worth considering. “I don’t know. But I don’t have to say yes even if he does. I have enough money that I've inherited in my own right.”

“You like him,” Jemma accused.

“I do. It doesn’t mean anything though.”

“I like him too,” Jemma said more quietly. “Did you know he was friends with Hunter? They went to school together.”

“Did they?” Bobbi brushed a curl back, but of course it bounced right back into place. “Not surprising, I suppose, since they are of an age.”

“Yes, but there was something about the way Fitz talked about him…”

A kernel of an idea lodged in Bobbi’s mind. There was some potential, but it also had the potential to end disastrously, so she didn’t want to give Jemma hope when maybe there wasn’t any. 

“Let’s just try to keep an open mind. There has to be a solution that doesn’t leave us both miserable.”

“You think Hunter will make me miserable?”

Bobbi smiled sadly. “I think he will make you indescribably happy...until the moment you realize he was never yours.”

“That’s okay. As long as you’re mine.”

Jemma gave her a slightly wicked smile and Bobbi decided they had more important things to do than talk about Hunter and Fitz.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunter tries -- rather unsuccessfully -- to sort through his feelings before making an offer of marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time it really is Thursday! Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Thanks to @agentofship for all of her help <3

Hunter flexed his arms before stepping into the ring. The scar that extended from his shoulder down to his chest twinged a little as he moved, but it felt good to be using his muscles again. He’d thought he was going to die on the battlefield. It would have been a fitting end for him, even if it was a little dramatic. But his family could appreciate the blaze of glory and honor of a noble death. Instead he was here. Making his way through ballrooms, putting wagers in the betting book at White’s, and now testing his skill at Jackson’s.

It was the exact life he hadn’t wanted. 

But now he was short on funds, had no desire to return to army life, and marrying Bobbi was apparently not an option. He’d thought she’d liked him well enough. Certainly hadn’t objected to the liberties they’d taken with each other. But then she’d called off their betrothal with a letter and hadn’t seemed inclined to rekindle their relationship. It stung a little. But Jemma was a whole other mystery to explore. She, at least, seemed to like him. 

But she’d also been dancing with Fitz. And Fitz was the root of all his problems. This wasn’t something he would be able to sort out now.

There were some calls and taunts as he moved around the ring, his reputation as a war hero had garnered him a bout with Gentleman Jackson himself, but his mind was still stuck on Fitz. Which was not an unusual place for his mind to be stuck. It had been stuck on him when Hunter had turned Bobbi off from their betrothal. It had been stuck on him when he’d been on the battlefield wondering if he’d make it home. And after the previous evening there was no way he’d ever be able to stop thinking about him. 

A well-placed jab earned him a nod of approval and Jackson gave him a small bow that signaled the end of their bout. He made his way from the ring, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, more than a little surprised when his eyes met Fitz’s. Fitz had always been quiet, hesitant to share his feelings, but there was no mistaking the look of longing written all over his face. It was some sort of consolation. 

And it would have felt much better if he hadn’t seen the same look on Fitz’s face when he’d looked at Bobbi. What a mess they’d ended up in. 

Fitz had looked away the second their eyes met, but he didn’t leave. He moved out of Hunter’s sight, but he could almost feel his eyes on him it was such a palpable thing. And Hunter wasn’t above using that to his advantage. 

Eventually, he turned and gestured towards Fitz, greeting him as if he hadn’t been involved in some sort of strategy. The skills he’d learned in the battlefield translated surprisingly well to polite society. It was a skirmish at least, if not an all-out war. 

“Fitz. So pleased to see you.”

“Hunter.” Fitz swallowed and nodded his head in greeting. Maybe not eager, but full of nervous energy nonetheless.

“I didn’t know you enjoyed boxing.”

“I don’t,” he said quickly. “I —“ Fitz looked around as if words would present themselves. 

“I know.” 

Fitz looked back at him and for a second they could have been 16 all over again. But they weren’t. 

“I was going to head over to White’s if you want to join me.”

Fitz snorted. “I can’t quite picture you at White’s.”

“Why not? I’m a fine, upstanding citizen now. War hero, even.”

A shadow passed over Fitz’s face, so quickly he wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t been watching him so closely. 

“I guess you are.”

* * *

No matter what he’d said to Fitz, sitting in White’s always made him a bit twitchy. There was some of the camaraderie of school or the army, but mostly there were hushed negotiations and discussions of politics and proper protocol. It was stifling. He had to resist tugging at his collar. 

“I was surprised to see you in town.”

Fitz visibly startled at the words as if he’d forgotten Hunter’s presence entirely. Then he grumpily replied, “I have to marry. This seemed like the easiest way.”

“Ah, right. Time to procure a bride.” Hunter took a careful sip of his drink. Fitz could be a bit prickly if he wasn’t handled right, something that made Hunter smile unexpectedly. “See anyone you like?”

“Yes.” Fitz didn’t elaborate further, trying to turn the tables instead. “And what about you? What are _you_ doing here?”

“Same as you. I have to marry.”

“Thought you didn’t want to.”

“I don’t.” Hunter tried to gauge Fitz’s reaction but couldn’t quite read his expression. “But it turns out wants and needs are different things.”

“Yes.” Fitz had a faraway look but didn’t elaborate. 

“My parents are urging me to marry. And I find that there are some luxuries I’m not quite willing to live without. A bride — an heiress — can ease many of my troubles all at once.”

“That I can understand. My mother is quite eager for me to marry so the line can be secured.”

The thought of Fitz and some faceless bride, though really he suspected it would be Bobbi or Jemma, conceiving Fitz’s heirs caused an odd twisting in his gut. He’d be a hypocrite to want to deny Fitz the pleasures of the marriage bed, he indulged himself from time to time, but he’d always thought of Fitz as his somehow. That the dream could live on no matter the time or distance. But it seemed reality had other ideas.

“Mothers are like that.” Hunter wasn’t sure what he’d expected from their conversation, but it wasn’t this. “Are you thinking of offering for Bobbi? She’s fairly, ah—”

“I can’t do this, Hunter,” Fitz hissed. 

“Can’t do what?”

“Can’t pretend that this is alright. Can’t pretend that we’re just old friends—“

“Fitz.” It was one thing you harbor such feelings, but it was another entirely to yell about them in the middle of the club. 

“Jemma and Bobbi are perfect. Both of them. But they wouldn’t be enough.”

Hunter recognized his own words flung back at him and smiled despite the gravity of the situation. They were teetering on the edge of ruining four lives. Not just theirs, but whatever unlucky women they married. And a big part of him hoped it would be Bobbi and Jemma. Not that he wanted to ruin their lives, but some people just made sense together and he’d felt things for Jemma he’d almost given up on. She hadn’t seen him as just a war hero. She’d almost seemed to see right through him. He could picture her as his wife. And Bobbi...well, she might have broken things off between them, but he’d never forget her passion — for life, for love, and he’d thought for him. Fitz seemed to feel the same way. 

Which didn’t make it feel any better. 

“Our families arranged the betrothal,” he finally said, with no context outside his swirling thoughts. 

“What?”

“To Bobbi. Our parents arranged it. My brother was ill and I was in line to inherit. Her parents wanted her to be a duchess and we could have used the funds. Bobbi inherited quite the fortune in her own name. Everyone assumed my brother wouldn’t make it through the winter, leaving me as the heir, and it was supposed to be a good match all around. Instead he survived, his wife had a child, and Bobbi ended things between us.”

“And you went off to war.”

“And I went off to war,” he agreed. “It was how things were supposed to be anyway. A second son eventually outgrows his usefulness.”

“I missed you. You disappeared without a word.”

“I’m sorry. It seemed better at the time. Though I can see now —“

“It doesn’t really matter, I suppose.”

Hunter raised his eyebrows in disbelief. That was the closest he’d ever expected to hear to a confession of Fitz’s feelings.

“How could it not matter?”

“Because we were always going to end up here.”

“Here doesn’t have to be that bad. It isn’t the end.”

“But we’ve just said we’ll be getting married. I hope to have the deed done by the end of the Season.”

“Marriage is for your title and the estate. How you make yourself happy is up to you.”

“I have been thinking about Bobbi. Or Jemma. Neither one of them deserves a husband who doesn’t care about them.”

“It doesn’t mean you don’t have to care about your wife. It just means you can care about other people too.”

Fitz stared into his glass, seemingly lost in thought. “I think I understand what you are trying to say, but I’m not sure how that is possible.”

“Anything is possible if you want it enough.”

* * *

His own words echoing in his head, Hunter looked out over the ballroom. He’d never understand why it was considered a social success to have a party so crowded no one could even breathe. Ladies were completely mad sometimes. 

But then he spotted her. Bobbi. He’d accepted her rejection, happy she would be free from him in case he never came home. But now it rankled a bit. He was eligible. Handsome. No title and little funds, that was true. But it wasn’t like she needed that. 

He watched her twirl in Fitz’s arms. The waltz really was practically indecent. He could see the way their bodies fit together, Bobbi’s height allowing them to mold themselves against each other in a way the high sticklers would never approve of. But that was his Bob. She didn’t care in the slightest and he loved her for it.   
.  
He wondered if he did love her. They’d been so young and with everything in their lives completely beyond their control he hadn’t even considered the possibility. But thoughts of her had never been far from his mind, no matter where he’d been. 

Either way, that same feeling came over him again. Seeing Fitz with Bobbi felt the same way as seeing him with Jemma. A strange mix of jealousy and envy.

As the music ended and the dancers returned back to the edges of the ballroom, Hunter made his way towards Bobbi. He’d come to some sort of understanding with Fitz that afternoon. But that didn’t change the rest of it. 

“Captain Hunter.”

“Bobbi.” He let her name move slowly over his tongue, almost tasting the word. “Would you care to dance?”

“I’m afraid my dance card is full. Perhaps next time you should arrive earlier.” There was a set down somewhere in there, but he barely noticed with the teasing note in her voice and the way her blue eyes sparkled.

“That’s alright. I didn’t really want to dance anyway.” He held his arm out to her and she gently tapped it with her fan before taking his arm. 

“Then why did you ask me?”

“It’s the proper thing to do. And I know how much you like being proper.”

Bobbi walked a fine line between telling the world to go to hell and respectability, but as far as he could tell, she’d never actually crossed it. 

“Hmm.”

“So, a walk in the gardens then?”

“Out on the terrace? Away from the prying eyes of my chaperone?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Her soft chuckle sent a little wave of lust through him. This was a dangerous game, but even if they got caught there wasn’t truly anything to fear. He’d offer for her and she could accept...or not. She’d made it clear that it was her choice and no one else’s. That didn’t mean he couldn’t spend time with her.

Once they stepped from the bright lights of the ballroom and made their way towards the darkened paths of the garden, the sounds of the ball began to fade. The chatter became a dull sound in the background while gentle strains of music drifted out the open windows. Bobbi dropped his arm and led him further from the house. 

“I’ve always enjoyed the night air after spending so much time in a stuffy ballroom.”

Hunter plucked a flower as they walked by. He had no idea what it was, but its bright color against the greens of the rest of the garden reminded him of all the hope in the world. Out of the darkest of nights there was always something to look forward to.

“For you, my lady.” He handed the flower to Bobbi and she held it up to her face, breathing deeply.

“It’s beautiful.” 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly.” Bobbi gave him a look, but didn’t say anything, so he continued. “For ending things between us.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I mean it. I was young, immature. I would have done my duty, but I would have been a terrible husband.”

“And you’re implying you’d be a better husband now.”

He took her hand and pulled her into an embrace.

“Not at all.” A smile spread over his face. “But I’d be sure to make it worth your while.”

“How very kind of you.” Bobbi ran her hands down the arms of his coat.

“I aim to please.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, but Bobbi pulled away before he could deepen it further.

“But I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much of a wife.” 

Bobbi moved a step back, bathing her face in moonlight, and it made Hunter question everything he thought he’d ever known.

“I think...I think I might have loved you.”

“Oh, Hunter.” She rolled her eyes and he thought he might have fallen a little bit more in love with her. “Honestly, I was a little bit in love with you too.”

Their eyes locked, something passing between them that he thought he understood. He’d been dealing with longing for something he couldn't have for entirely too long.

“But, there’s someone else.”

“Fitz.” 

“Fitz? No. Well, maybe.” Bobbi shrugged. “Someone else though.”

Hunter tried to think who else he’d seen her with. Unless she was seeing someone who was completely forbidden. A man in trade? But if she loved him, and maybe Fitz, and also someone else…

“We should go back.” Bobbi’s words broke him from his thoughts.

“Marry me,” he said, instead of responding to her words.

“I just told you --”

“I love someone else too. But I also love you. I think we could make it work.”

“Hunter --”

“Let me convince you.” Then he did pull her into his arms and give her the kind of kiss she deserved. 

And even better, she kissed him back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma goes through with her plan and stirs up all sorts of confusing feelings for both her and Hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'll be posting my secret santa fic tomorrow I'm posting this a day early. And it just so happens that this whole chapter is basically smut...so Merry Christmas <3
> 
> Thanks, as always, to @agentofship for all of her help. None of this would happen without her!

“He really offered for you?”

Bobbi looked around, probably worried about how much Jemma’s voice would carry across the room. But Jemma couldn’t be bothered to care. It had been a long few days without seeing each other.

“Yes, he did. But I declined.”

“Of course.” Jemma leaned closer. “Except I don’t really understand. He wouldn’t be the worst husband.”

“I said no because there are too many things we haven’t figured out yet. I don’t want a marriage where I am not an equal. And Hunter said some things that made me question the kind of relationship we’d have.”

Jemma looked away. She was happy for Bobbi. She deserved happiness. But part of Jemma also wanted to feel the things Hunter could show her. She could feel his kindness, see his honor...and she also had eyes. He was incredibly well-formed.

“What kinds of things?”

“Well, he has feelings for you for one thing.”

Bobbi was looking at her, obviously interested in her reaction. 

“He does?” She’d known he did. At least as far as physical desire went. But it was different hearing it from Bobbi. She felt hot all over. Bobbi’s kisses had awakened a desire inside her, but feeling Hunter against her as they’d kissed had been something else entirely. 

“You know he does.”

“I know.” She nodded, giving the statement some finality. “But I don’t want to interfere --”

“Jemma, go ahead. I told him what you wanted--”

“You did? But I guess that’s easier actually.” Jemma looked around the crowded room, as if he’d be hiding behind a potted plant or something. “And you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. In fact… No, never mind. I’ll tell you later.” Bobbi wrapped an arm around her waist before whispering in her ear. “Don’t waste any more time. If you really plan to do this before you marry, then you should go after him. And who knows? Maybe you’ll end up married to Hunter.”

Jemma squared her shoulders. She knew when to accept a challenge. And this challenge was definitely worth it.

* * *

After his talk with Bobbi, he thought he knew what was happening, thought he knew where this was all going. Bobbi had said he’d have to convince Jemma if he wanted her to agree, something that certainly wouldn’t be a hardship.

But the moment their lips met, everything he had wanted to say was gone from Hunter’s mind. Jemma felt warm beneath him, her arms around his neck and her body pressed close. The gown she had worn this evening was much more revealing than the more demure ones he’d seen before. The gauzy fabric and lower neckline of this dress, which he liked very much, made it easy to slide his hands across her back and over her shoulders. 

She let out a sigh into his mouth and he picked her up, carrying her deeper into the gardens where there would be no chance of anyone spotting them from the house. She was lighter than he thought she would be, merely a slip of a thing after all, and it made him want to protect her all the more. He seemed to have a problem with that recently. First Fitz, then Bobbi, and now Jemma. Three people who had thrown his life into disarray.

He laid her down on the large bench at the back of the formal gardens and tore his lips from hers to drag them slowly down her neck. He was rewarded for his efforts with her sighs and moans, and it made him want to find more ways for her to make those sounds. Kissing across her shoulder, he dipped his fingers into her low-cut bodice and felt her body tense as the pad of his thumb connected with one nipple.

He moved his thumb again and her hands moved from his arms to the back of his head to guide his mouth further down her body. He laughed as he left open-mouthed kisses across the tops of her breasts before dipping his tongue into her bodice, following the path of his fingers.

“Hunter,” she breathed. He felt a surge of lust at the sound of his name on her lips, and the absolute certainty that whoever she’d been with before hadn’t made her feel this. “I need…”

Shifting his attention to her other breast, he tugged down on her dress to suck the nipple into his mouth and the sound she made was practically sinful. She really was an amazing woman. 

Returning his lips to hers, he settled next to her on the bench. The stone dug into his skin slightly, but he couldn’t make the effort to care when she was there beside him.

“What do you need, Jemma?” he asked when they finally broke apart to take breath.

Her lips were swollen and her eyes were dazed, and he let one hand drift lazily down her body while his other hand propped up his head so he could look down at her. He rested his hand on her thigh and used it to slowly tug up her skirts, exposing her skin to the night air one bit at a time.

“I-I...you.” She swallowed and licked her lips. “I need you. Now.”

“Is here alright? I’d prefer to have you in a bed, but I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“Oh, Hunter.” 

Her skirt was high enough that his hand now rested on the bared skin of her thigh, and he traced patterns over her before moving his fingers higher...and higher. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open, small sounds of pleasure escaping.

When he finally reached her center, he felt her wet heat and nearly spent himself then and there. She gasped and lifted her hips off the bench, chasing his hand as he pulled it away, and he repeated the motion again and again, sliding his fingers into her wetness before rubbing against the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. She was a quivering mass beneath his hands, so sensitive to his touch. He wanted to be inside her so badly, but he also wanted to see her come apart.

“Hunter, please.”

“What do you want, love?” he ground out, rubbing his thumb over her so she moaned again.

“Show me...please. I want to know everything.”

He deliberately removed his hand from her body and smiled at the sound of protest she made. She tried to sit up, but he gently pushed her back down with one hand as he lowered his mouth to her center. At the slight pressure of his tongue she bucked her hips up, seeking more friction, and he licked across her folds slowly, legs falling further apart and her cries getting louder, before rubbing his tongue across her the way he knew would release all the tension in her body. 

“Hunter...oh, Hunter.” She cried his name as her body pulsed and he reached down with one hand to free his cock from the confines of his breeches. Her hands were reaching for him and he climbed over her, leaning down to take her lips once again. She kissed him hungrily, her hands touching him everywhere she could reach, including reaching down between them to wrap her fingers around him. She stroked her hand up and down a few times and he settled himself between her legs.

He had never done anything quite like this, fully clothed in the garden during a party, and he reflected on the fact that only Jemma could make a boring party so exciting. Maybe Fitz could have. But that was an entirely different complication. And Bobbi was far too responsible to let things go so far when they might get caught. He added his hand around hers and together they guided his hard length towards her entrance. She released him as he slowly sank into her, gripping his shoulders tightly and pulling him closer to her.

“Jemma...Jemma, you feel so good.”

He thrust into her shallowly, going a bit deeper each time. She had started moaning again beneath him and her fingers bit into his skin.

She began to move her hips, though her movements were limited by the hard stone beneath her as she sought leverage, finally planting her feet and pushing up against him. Their motions worked as counterforces and he slid to the hilt, feeling the moment when he pressed against and then broke through the thin resistance inside her. 

He froze, for a moment wondering if he had imagined it. Wishing he had.

“Please, Hunter,” she said again, wiggling beneath him, and it was too late to change anything about what was happening. He thrust his hips against her in quick succession, his body’s instincts taking precedent over the more rational thoughts of his mind - if he even had rational thoughts anymore - and he felt her inner walls flutter around him before he spent his seed inside her, calling her name as he lowered himself onto her, completely exhausted.

* * *

She wrapped her arms and legs around him, trying to hold him close. She had never felt anything quite so amazing and wonderful. She’d thought the kisses and touches she’d shared with Bobbi had been the pinnacle of bliss, but now she realized there was so much more. She really needed to talk to Bobbi about this. The way he made her feel made her think she could float on the clouds. Except for that one moment of pressure and pain, the rest of it had been quite wonderful. She had been right to want to explore this with him. He was quite wonderful as well. And the best part of the whole thing was that he only wanted her because of herself, not because he needed something from her or she could benefit him in some way. He was a war hero, with all the ladies of London at his doorstep. He didn’t need her and her adequate but unimpressive dowry. If he needed to marry, she was certain Bobbi would say yes eventually.

She kissed his neck and along his jaw as their breathing slowed down. He didn’t say anything, though he kept his face buried against her shoulder, breathing deeply and pressing kisses to her bare skin. After several long minutes of laying like that, her heated skin started to feel cool in the night air and she felt him soften inside her. It felt a lot like losing him. While she wanted to stay like this forever, she was starting to feel slightly embarrassed about her behavior as well as her bare limbs. Not for herself, she had no regrets after all, but for what would happen if they were caught like this.

“Hunter,” she said softly into his ear. He didn’t respond. “Hunter...I think we should get up. Go back inside.”

He released her then, and she wasn’t prepared for the look of betrayal in his eyes. “You should have told me you were still innocent.”

Her happiness evaporated as she was dragged back down to earth. She pushed at his shoulder until he got up, the delicious weight of him gone from her body, and she was left feeling like some sort of harlot as she tugged down her skirts to cover the evidence of what they had done together.

She stood up and steadied herself before responding. “I was not innocent. And you know that I don’t care about such things. That was enough.”

“No, Jemma, it wasn’t enough.” He shook his head and brought a hand up to the back of his neck. “I never would have --” He gestured towards her.

“I know,” she said, simply. “You are a good man.”

“We’ll have to get married.” He smiled at her sardonically. “You may not think I’m a good man after you’ve had to live with me.”

“I assure you, that is completely unnecessary.”

“Jemma, I just took your virginity in the middle of a garden during the biggest crush of the season. If that isn’t cause for marriage, then I don’t know what is.”

“As far as the rest of the world knows, nothing has changed. I certainly don’t owe anyone marriage for a moment’s pleasure.”

“I don’t make a habit of taking advantage of ladies, Jems.”

His use of the endearment warmed her, if his tone did not. She should have known he would try to propose to her just because they had enjoyed each other. She would remember this night for the rest of her life. But it was no reason for him to assume she thought it would end with marriage. He was too noble for his own good.

“And I don’t trick men into marriage, Hunter.”

“Miss Simmons, I must insist. I have wronged you. I assumed you were more experienced than you were and it clouded my judgement --”

“I won’t marry you. I’m sorry. I know Bobbi just turned you down as well. It’s just that -- Well, that doesn’t matter. My answer is still no.”

She cut through what she assumed would be the worst proposal ever heard in all of England, and he seemed confused by her words. She stepped closer and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I won’t marry you,” she said again.

“But why?” He was looking at her curiously. “I have been told I’m quite the catch.”

He was acting like a petulant child and she found it rather endearing.

“You didn’t make love to me because you wanted to get married. You did it because you wanted to.” 

“But--”

“And so did I. You don’t have to marry me out of a sense of duty. I knew what I was doing.” That wasn’t exactly true, she’d had no idea how he’d make her feel with the marriage act, but now didn’t seem to be the time to split hairs over that. “Now we should probably get back to the house before someone notices we are gone.”

She knew she sounded quite reasonable. Certainly more reasonable than she felt right now. If he asked her to marry him again, even if he insisted that they had to, she would say yes. She wanted to feel the way she had in his arms, and her biological response was tied up with all sorts of feelings.

“But Jemma...your reputation. If anyone saw us come out here —“

She laughed, and it came out sounding more brittle than she had intended. “My reputation can’t get any worse. I’m a bluestocking. Completely on the shelf. There should at least be some benefit to that. And it was quite lovely.”

“It is much better on a bed...or even on a settee,” he said grumpily. “I’d be happy to show you.”

She turned to walk back to the house, and to hide the blush that rose in her cheek at the thought of doing that again. The feel of them moving together was sinful and she couldn’t get it out of her mind. But other images flashed through her thoughts as well. She wondered how different it would be to lie with Fitz. Or if she’d be able to please Bobbi with her mouth the same way Hunter had pleased her. 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Especially if you keep trying to propose to me. Someday I might accidentally say yes. And what would Bobbi say?”

“Somehow I don’t think Bobbi would mind.”

She was worried he’d continue to push her, but he must have accepted her words for what they were. Instead, he laughed and reached out to take her hand, tugging her down the correct path when she strayed, unsure of her way through the garden in the dark. But she felt safe with him and the warmth of his hand on hers was comforting. 

They walked the rest of the way in silence and Jemma had to admit that an outdoor assignation probably hadn’t been the best idea. Her thighs felt sticky and she was cold. Next time she’d make plans for something more comfortable. Because, yes, she fully intended on doing this again. Hunter must have noticed her shiver because he stopped them and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing his hands over her arms. 

“You should have said you were cold.” 

“You aren’t responsible for me.” But even as she said the dismissive words, she leaned into his warmth. He felt like a small fire in the cool night air and she desperately wanted the scrap of comfort he was giving her. 

“We still need to talk about this.”

“There is nothing to talk about. I told you I won’t marry you.”

“There are plenty of things to talk about besides marriage.” She stiffened in his arms, but he didn’t release her. “Starting with the question of why you went with me if you weren’t interested in marriage.”

“Is that really the only reason you think a woman would want you?”

He held her out at arm’s length and studied her face in the moonlight. She looked back unflinchingly. “Of course not. But that is the main reason ladies of the ton are interested in me.”

“Then ladies of the ton are complete idiots.”

He laughed again and confusion filled her. She should feel something right now other than happiness and desire. She loved Bobbi. She didn’t want to betray those feelings. But when she was with Fitz she felt an unbreakable bond, a foundation built on science, but fueled by something else entirely. He made her feel whole in a way she hadn’t experienced before. And Hunter...Hunter challenged her. Made her feel bold, like she could do anything. She wasn’t sure how she’d walk away from all of this if she went through with her plan. But she’d manage somehow. She excelled at preparation. She just had to make a plan and stick to it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unwelcome visitor from Fitz's past leads to some unexpected complications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently it's Thursday again. Not sure how this keeps happening. Hope everyone has a very happy new year!
> 
> Thanks to @agentofship for all of her help! <3 <3 <3

The season was going by too quickly for Fitz’s liking, especially since with every passing day he felt like he was losing more and more control over his life. He’d meant to just find a bride, make the necessary arrangements and then go back to Scotland so he could oversee his estates. Instead he felt like his heart was being broken into three even pieces, never to be intact again once he left. Even if he convinced Bobbi or Jemma to marry him, most of his heart would still be left behind.

But he’d hardly be the first person to choose their duty over their happiness, and he wouldn’t be the last. Though it wasn’t any consolation at all that Hunter was in the same situation.

“Would you like some tea, Lord Fitz?”

“Ah, yes, of course. Thank you.” He shifted uncomfortably under the watchful eye of Jemma’s mother. He’d only come to tea because he’d wanted to see Jemma to discuss the idea he had for a safety lamp, a way to keep miners safe while they worked. But he hadn’t anticipated her mother being a barrier to discussing science. Mostly because he’d never even seen Jemma’s mother before. She was a bit of a dragon, not at all what he’d expect from her daughter’s open mind and kind heart.

“You have an estate in Scotland?”

“Y-yes.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jemma roll her eyes at her mother’s questioning. He would have found it more irritating, but having Jemma there, clearly just as exasperated as he was made it easier to stomach. “The farmlands are quite fertile. I was telling Miss Simmons just the other night at Lady Isabella’s ball that I am working on a new system for irrigation that should keep the fields with the proper amount of moisture all through the growing season.”

He turned to Jemma out of instinct and her smile made the rest of his thoughts slip from his mind.

“Quite ingenious really,” she answered when it became clear that her mother wasn’t going to respond. “That should take the burden off your tenants and free up their time for other endeavors.”

“Exactly.” He nodded. “And I’ve been working out how to make improvements to the lands and the dwellings with the extra income from the --”

“Oh my,” Jemma’s mother interrupted, her eyes glazing over. “I just remembered I need to speak to the housekeeper before dinner tonight. Excuse me.”

She stood and was gone before Fitz even understood what had happened.

“Does she do that often?” he asked, eyes still fixed on the door she had just exited.

“Only when she thinks I’ve turned off yet another beau. She obviously had high hopes for you.”

“Oh. What did I do wrong?”

“Well,” Jemma stood, coming to sit beside him on the settee. “Instead of impressing her with the size of your estate and the valuable connection you’d be for our family, you deigned to talk about science.”

“But I like science.”

“As do I.”

“You didn’t turn me off.”

Fitz leaned towards her, the invitation clear if she was interested.

“Good.” Her breath came out as a sigh and then their lips met, the kiss sweet and gentle before Jemma moved closer. Then he was holding onto her as if his life depended on it. And maybe it did. Kissing Jemma was completely different from kissing anyone else. She always tried to be so proper and polite. The perfect lady everyone expected her to be. But Fitz knew differently, knew that once the flame inside her was lit she glowed with a passion that could consume her. They moved together as if they were one and desire flowed through him. Her tongue moved across his lips and he welcomed her eagerly, thinking how it would feel -- skin to skin, breath coming fast between them as she spiraled out of control beneath him. He wanted that with heri. Needed it.

When they finally broke apart it was only to breathe. 

“Jemma...you are amazing. One of the most amazing women I’ve ever met. I —“

“I’m not innocent.” 

Jemma’s words came out in a rush, though Fitz didn’t know what she had to fear from him.

“W-what?”

“I have lain with a man.” She said the words simply, though they both knew they carried great import. If he wanted her for his wife he supposed it should matter, but it didn’t. Not in the slightest. He wasn’t attracted to her for her virginity. It was everything else he found appealing. 

Plus, he’d be a bit of a hypocrite for condemning her for laying with a man when he’d done the same.

“S’not important.”

He reached up to stroke the curve of her check and she leaned into him. 

“I just thought you should know.”

“Well, I’m not...ah, pure either —“

“Of course not. You’re very handsome. I’m sure all the ladies —“ He started laughing and she broke off. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“You’re probably the only one that thinks that. And I love you for it.”

He didn’t realize what he’d said until he started replaying his words in the silence that settled between them. 

“I mean, I — I admire you. Greatly.”

“I admire you as well. Very much.” Her expression turned more pensive. “No matter what happens between now and the end of the Season, know that I think you are brilliant and your work is revolutionary.”

“The Season is almost at a close, what could possibly happen now?”

* * *

It turned out that a lot could happen, even in the waning days of the Season. The most troublesome of the changes was the reappearance of Grant Ward — his nemesis from his schooldays. He’d thought the panic and fear were well behind him, but catching sight of Ward, his wife beside him adorned in masses of sparkling jewels, brought it all back.

“Steady there, Fitz.” Hunter’s voice in his ear grounded him a bit. Hunter had always been the one to protect him from Ward’s more dangerous games, and he’d earned more than one black eye for his efforts.

“He shouldn’t be here,” Fitz said between gritted teeth.

“That’s the thing with polite society. They can’t be bothered to deal with the refuse. Not when the refuse has as much money and power as he does. Just ignore him.”

Fitz snorted. “Easy for you to say. You’re a hero. It’s not like he can do anything to you without getting the cut direct from at least a dozen society matrons.”

“He’s always tormented you because you care.”

“Of course I care!”

“Well, you shouldn’t. His fortune was made entirely through ill-gotten gains, he practically kidnapped his wife and forced her into marriage for her dowry, and he’s never done an honest day’s work in his life. His opinion of you doesn’t matter.”

Fitz looked at him skeptically, though he supposed it made sense. Ward didn’t actually have anything over him. Just years of memories. 

“Plus,” Hunter continued. “You have the lovely Bobbi and Jemma to keep you company. Ward can’t compete with that.”

“Hmmm.” Fitz tried to remain grumpy, but it was hard to do so with Hunter at his side and the promise of Bobbi and Jemma. He really needed to see them about their dance cards. Perhaps he could convince them to give him two dances each. That would make tonight worth it. And he had to make his decision soon. The Season was nearly over. If he didn’t propose now he’d be condemning himself to another year of this torture -- and perhaps lose both of them forever. 

But then he saw Ward with a circle of young ladies surrounding him. Including Bobbi and Jemma. It was really too much. It would be best to just leave and find another event to talk to Bobbi and Jemma. It wasn’t like he was a good dancer anyway. 

“I think I’m going to head home. Not feeling well.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “It’s time to stand up to him. Plus, if you leave there won’t be any stolen kisses.”

“I don’t think I’m going to win them over with kisses.” Fitz shot another dark glance across the room.

“I think you are greatly underestimating the power of your kisses, love.”

That brought a small smile to his face. “So if I promise you a kiss, you’ll help me get out of here?”

Hunter just shook his head, but then gestured for Fitz to follow.

He headed to the card room with Hunter and then changed direction to make his way towards the door and the safety of his carriage. But in his haste to make an escape he ventured too close to the group and Ward’s eye met his as he scanned the room, looking for all the world as if there was a pile of dung beneath his nose. 

“Fitz.” The words were said with a sneer and a mocking bow. 

“Ward,” he ground out, not wanting to engage but not seeing a way to flee.

“I was just telling these ladies about how utterly boring school was — except for the harmless pranks that boys will play.” He laughed and there were answering titters from the gathered ladies. 

It was infuriating. There had been nothing harmless about the pranks Ward played. But it wasn’t like he could just say that. He couldn’t when he was 16 and he couldn’t now. But assuming he married soon, he could avoid London -- and Ward -- for the rest of his life.

Fitz cast around for something to say and noticed Jemma looking between him and Ward with a questioning look. Whatever she was contemplating, she seemed to make a decision before moving towards him.

“Fitz, I believe you claimed this dance.” He faintly heard strains of music, but it was Jemma’s hand on his arm that held him in the moment. He fixed his gaze on her and she inclined her head.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled before blindly following her away from the group. Ward had always made him freeze up and he was mad at himself for letting Jemma and Bobbi see that. 

His mind was so scrambled that he didn’t realize immediately that Jemma wasn’t leading him towards the dance floor or out to the terrace for some air. Instead she was moving quickly down a darkened hallway.

“Where are we going?” he asked in a whisper.

“Library. Last Season I spent an entire ball in there reading a book on anatomy. It’s quite an impressive collection --”

“But why?”

She halted and Fitz brought his arms around her to stop himself from pushing her over.

“Because you need some time to compose yourself.”

Then she took off walking again, leading him straight to the library door. While he didn’t appreciate the implication of her words, he could admit that he really did need a few moments to himself.

Once they were both inside, Jemma shut the door firmly.

“I don’t think we’ll be interrupted, but this is the best I can do on short notice.”

Fitz had a moment’s pause over what sort of arrangements she could make with more time, but wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Jemma…”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He thought for a few moments and then shook his head. He didn’t need to talk about it. It was clear from the look on her face that she had some idea of what he felt.

“Some people aren’t worth your time,” she insisted, coming closer.

“But some people are.”

With a move he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull off again if he tried, he reached for her hand to pull her closer and she was in his arm pressed tightly against him. She kissed him hungrily and in that moment Ward was the furthest thing from his mind. Jemma had a way of making everything feel better. She helped him feel whole and she understood him. His thoughts. His feelings.

Maybe this was love?

Jemma’s hands moved slowly from his shoulders down his waistcoat before slipping lower. Goosebumps broke out over his skin from how intimate her touch had become.

“Jemma…” He tried to stop her, but she captured his lips again and words escaped him. “I, I -- What are you doing?”

“I’m helping you feel better,” she said, tugging at his cravat. “Your biological response should make you forget all about Ward.”

She pulled away slightly and looked pointedly towards his breeches and Fitz felt heat rise in his cheeks. It was one thing to admit to himself that he had impure thoughts about Jemma, but it was another thing entirely for her to acknowledge the evidence of that.

“You don’t have to --”

“I want to. I want you.” And then she was kissing him again. He was powerless to resist her and since she seemed so sure, he decided not to even try. The rest of the world fell away until it was just the two of them, their lips pressed together, soft sounds of pleasure filling the air.

In a moment of boldness, Fitz brought his hands to the front of her gown, extraordinarily pleased with his ingenuity when Jemma let out a sigh. But then it was his turn to gasp as Jemma’s hands worked at the laces of his breeches before closing around his cock. Her hands were small and cool, but her touch was firm and confident. His head fell back as she explored him, her fingers tracing over him.

He pulled her to him again, plundering her mouth with his tongue. She was sweet and wonderful and perfect. 

He should propose before things went any further. But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind then she wrapped her hand more firmly around him and stroked up and down, twisting her wrist as she went. His mind turned to mush as bliss replaced every other feeling.

Jemma released him and he almost collapsed back against the shelves behind them, but then she walked backwards towards the settee, her eyes locked on his, and he had to follow. He thought he might be willing to follow her anywhere.

“I’ve heard it’s better like this.” After those cryptic words, she pushed him lightly back onto the settee and climbed on top of him, her skirts fluttering around them as they settled.

Fitz sucked in deep breaths as he felt her heat on him. His entire evening had changed. He couldn’t even remember why he’d been upset before. Ward couldn’t touch him now. Hunter had been right.

A slight weight settled in his stomach at the thought of Hunter, but he couldn’t look away from Jemma above him as her hands moved towards his breeches again.

“Jemma.” She looked at his face, lust in her gaze. “I love you.”

She opened her mouth, and the door slammed open.

“Got you.” 

Fitz would have recognized that voice anywhere. Ward. His head fell back and his eyes closed, but for a very different reason this time.

“My lord.” Jemma greeted the intruder calmly, as if they weren’t just caught in flagrante, while at the same time attempting to adjust their clothing the best she could.

“Miss Simmons?” There was a note of uncertainty in his voice. “Why are _you_ here?”

Jemma seemed to be gathering her thoughts before giving an answer, but Fitz knew it was his place to take responsibility for the trouble they were in now.

“I have just asked Jemma to be my wife.” He spared a glance at Jemma, though given the fact that she was still straddling his lap it was difficult to see her expression well. But she gave a small nod, so he continued. “And she has agreed.”

As he spoke more people entered the room, including Jemma’s mother, a smile pasted on her face that terrified him. He put himself together the best he could and helped Jemma up, staying as hidden as possible behind her skirts.

“Congratulations Miss Simmons,” Ward said in a mocking tone. “I didn’t know Fitz had it in him.”

“Why don’t we give the happy couple some space,” Mrs. Simmons interjected. “There is still so much to discuss. I’m certain the earl will want to speak to my husband as soon as possible.”

There was an implication in her words that Fitz recognized right away. “I shall call upon you and your husband in the morning.”

“Not too early. Mr. Simmons handles all his business in the morning.”

“Of course.”

“Wonderful. I am sure the marriage contract will be quite satisfactory.” She gave a sickly sweet smile and turned to Jemma. “Come, Jemma dear. Let’s get you home. We must start planning your trousseau.”

Jemma bit her lip and Fitz could feel how much she wanted to reject her mother’s suggestion, but ultimately she straightened her spine and mouthed, “sorry.” He reached for her hand and their fingers entwined for a few seconds before she moved too far for him to touch her.

Then he was alone, finally able to adjust his breeches. He’d just told the world he was going to marry Jemma. Or Ward, Mrs. Simmons, and whoever else was in hearing distance, which was basically the same thing.

Jemma. 

His bride.

“Bloody hell.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Jemma and Fitz's absence from society events, Hunter helps Bobbi find a moment's peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I missed Thursday again, but time is really meaningless at this point. :)
> 
> Thanks again to @agentofship for all her help!

Bobbi was not one to jump to conclusions or to borrow troubles, but in the days since she’d heard of Jemma and Fitz’s sudden betrothal she hadn’t heard a word from her friend. Jemma and her mother hadn’t been at home for visitors when she’d gone calling, and Jemma and Fitz had been noticeably absent from the events she’d attended. Or at least their absence had been noticeable to her. 

But Hunter was extremely present, and she was grateful to him for that. She gave him a tight smile as they met again, the quadrille moving them apart before bringing them together. She gave him a curtsy as the dance ended and he offered his arm. 

“You seem worried,” he said quietly. 

“It’s just unusual for Jemma to not attend events for so many days in a row.”

“Are you worried about her?” He frowned. “I’m sure they’re just busy preparing for the wedding. Fitz told me her father insisted on a wedding before the end of the Season.”

Bobbi nodded to some acquaintances as they passed. “Jemma doesn’t want a grand, society wedding. She doesn’t even want to marry Fitz.”

“He’s not so bad,” Hunter said with a smirk. 

“I am well aware.” She was more than aware. Parts of her ached at the thought of losing Fitz, just as she ached for the loss of Jemma. But they weren’t gone yet. “I just need to talk to her. To explain —“

“I’m sure she knows.”

“She knows _that_ , yes. But she doesn’t know the rest. She doesn’t know what could be.”

There was so much more she wanted to say. So much more they needed to talk about. But they were still at one of the biggest events of the Season and her hand was claimed by another suitor. She’d love more than anything to be able to tell him he didn’t stand a chance and not to waste the effort pretending to be interested in her. But it was really in her best interest to keep up appearances. So she kept smiling and dancing, knowing there were only a few people who would be able to tell just how brittle her smile was becoming. 

When she met Hunter’s eye as they passed on the dance floor it became clear that he was one of those people. But she didn’t want his pity. His life was infinitely less complicated than hers was. If their plan fell apart he’d be able to go on with his life. She wasn’t sure she could, the chance of scandal was too great. 

Three interminable dances later, Bobbi started to wonder if she could plead a migraine, never mind that she’d never had one in her life. But it was that or pretend to become so faint she needed to lie down, and she wasn’t certain she could convince anyone she was that delicate. 

“Miss Morse.” Hunter’s voice was steady and near as he deftly took her arm and nodded at Lord Whoever-he-was who she’d been dancing with. 

“Hunter. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Oh, you’re willing to admit it’s a pleasure to be with me now?”

“I’d say no, but I’m afraid it’s obvious that I find your company preferable to anyone else’s.”

“As long as Fitz and Jemma aren’t here?” His words were light, but somehow she knew there was a kernel of doubt there.

“You know that isn’t true. If we weren’t in the middle of the biggest crush of the season I’d be happy to show you.”

In fact the feel of Hunter’s body over hers, making her feel alive and whole, was just what she needed right now. Her nerves were frazzled, her patience stretched thin, left only to imagine what would happen next. Especially if Fitz and Jemma were married before she could talk to them again.

“I think I can help you with that.”

A genuine smile ticked up the sides of her mouth or the first time that night. 

“I’m pretty sure you’re the type of man I’ve been warned about.”

“What type of man is that?”

“An absolute rogue.”

“That’s all part of the charm, but really it’s a little bit late to worry about me stealing your virtue, love.”

He guided her out of the ballroom and towards the front of the house where they’d find the door leading out to the carriages. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m escorting you home.”

“Is this your effort at making me accept your proposal? Because I’m fairly certain my chaperone will notice if I’m not here.”

But even with the threat of marriage hanging between them she didn’t stop him. It seemed that she had some weaknesses she hadn’t accounted for.

“Ah, that’s the beauty of it. Your chaperone has gone home already, dreadful migraine, you know, and I may have implied that my brother and his wife would serve as appropriate chaperones in her absence.”

“But they won’t?”

Suddenly this had become a far more dangerous game, but it was oh, so tempting to play. If she’d ever wanted to know exactly how far she could push the bounds of polite society and still be accepted, this was her chance to find out. And if she somehow extended herself beyond those boundaries, then maybe she wouldn’t have to spend quite so much time at inane social events. So there was no real way for her to lose here.

“Of course they will. They make admirable chaperones. No one would dare tell a duke he isn’t doing a good job at the task.” They kept walking and Bobbi was mildly surprised that no one stopped them. No one even suspected the impropriety of what was about to occur. Anticipation settled inside her, burning so brightly she was mildly surprised it hadn’t become a tangible thing. “They just won’t actually be chaperoning you.”

A few minutes later Hunter handed her up into his carriage, emblazoned with his family’s crest, and they were finally alone. 

“So, where are we going? Not off to your bachelor accommodations, surely. That would certainly set tongues wagging.”

“I’m staying with my brother actually. So, no.”

“And he doesn’t approve of courtesans in the family home?”

“You’re hardly that.” Hunter gave her a look. The one that made butterflies take flight in her chest. “But my brother is a bit stuffy. He’d probably have an apoplexy if he found out I’d smuggled a young lady up to my rooms.”

“So where are we going then?”

“Well, I was going to escort you home. Maybe steal a kiss for my troubles?”

“Hunter.” She tried to level him with a look, but he just looked back at her hungrily. This was clearly something they both wanted and since he’d been kind, and clever, enough to make sure no one was looking for her there was no reason not to indulge.

Deciding to throw caution to the wind she moved across the carriage so she was close enough to touch him and then his arms closed around her, pulling her onto his lap. 

His lips pressed to hers and she could almost taste the desire and desperation between them. She deepened the kiss, needing to feel him, taste him, lose herself a little bit in him. His arms tightened around her and she let out a sigh as she settled a knee on each side of him. It was madness. And it was absolutely perfect. 

The sway of the carriage caused their bodies to rock against each other and Hunter let out a hissed breath in response.

“I think I’d like to steal something more than a kiss.” Bobbi leaned her head down for another kiss as Hunter’s hands skimmed down her body to wrap around her waist and hold her more firmly against him. 

“Anything you want,” he panted as she rolled her hips, seeking friction through the layers of clothing separating them.

“Good.”

She reached down between them to free him from the confines of his formal clothing, distracted from her goal as Hunter’s lips trailed down her neck and he kissed his way across her décolletage. 

“Wish I had time to undress you,” he mumbled into her skin. “Want to taste all of you.”

Bobbi tried to imagine what it would feel like to have Hunter’s tongue tracing paths over her body and a fresh wave of desire crashed through her. Their first time together had been a little too hurried, their hands fumbling in nervousness as they’d explored each other, to do everything they’d wanted. It seemed that today wouldn’t be any different.

He tugged at the bodice of her gown as she lifted her skirts up and pushed them out of the way. His clever fingers found her nipples and she ground against him, not caring the slightest for the wetness she was rubbing against his breeches. She could feel him, hard and pulsing, between her thighs, and she didn’t want to wait any longer. 

“We...don’t have much time.”

“I know.” He pinched her nipple and she cried out, a sound she didn’t even recognize as coming from her own mouth. “That doesn’t mean it can’t feel good.”

She obviously agreed. They deserved more. And hopefully they’d have it someday. But this was going to have to be more hurried than she’d like. It wouldn’t take that long to reach the house her parents had rented for the Season. 

Her fingers closed around his length and he surged into her hand.

“I want to stroke you until you spill your seed.”

His eyes dark, he looked up from where he was working his tongue beneath the neckline of her gown. 

“Do you want my seed, Bobbi?”

She bit her lip, mostly to stop herself from saying yes. Something about him made her want to say yes to everything he suggested. 

“You know very well I have no desire to be some man’s property — just to be the mother of his children — but I want you. Badly.”

“And what if there is a child?”

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

His gaze held her in place, like some sort of spell, and rather than try to understand everything that meant, she positioned herself above him before slowly sinking down, a jolt of the carriage pushing him in to the hilt. 

Their moans echoed around the small space, the dark making it all the more intimate. Here they could be just themselves. Just be the two of them. No prying eyes. No pressure. No one trying to catch them in an indiscreet moment. 

His hands on her hips were warm and his fingers dug into her skin through her gown as he helped her move up and down, slowly at first and then faster as their combined sounds of pleasure filled the carriage.

“So close,” she gritted out between moans, her thighs shaking from the exertion. She was generally considered a fine horsewoman, but this required entirely different muscles. She obviously needed more practice.

Hunter released her hip to dive a hand beneath her skirts, searching for the nub of pleasure between her thighs. When he found it he began rubbing his fingers in large circles. It was close enough to what she wanted that she may have given a small whimper, but not nearly enough. As she rode him faster, desperate now for release, his fingers moved in ever smaller circles until, her heart racing and desire coiling tight inside her, pleasure exploded through every part of her. She held her breath as wave after wave crashed over her, her body pulsing around where he was still buried deep inside her. 

Hunter’s thrusts became more erratic and soon after she felt a rush of fluid as he spilled his seed deep inside her. After a momentary thought that their indiscretion could leave her carrying Hunter’s child — and the thought that the idea didn’t scare her as much as it once had — she relaxed against him, his hand stroking her back and his heart beating steadily in his chest.

She wanted to stay in this moment as long as she could, but they must be nearing their destination and this pleasant moment of escape would soon be over. 

“Marry me, Bobbi.” She could hear the anguish in his voice, but she already knew she wouldn’t give in. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Hunter. I always have.” She pulled back from him, trying to straighten her skirts, like it would make a difference. But the truth was that if anyone saw her in her current state of deshabille they’d know exactly what she’d been doing. “But I love them too.”

“I know. I do too. But what if they —“

“They won’t. We just need to talk to them. Explain. We can figure this out together.”

At her continued wiggling on his lap, Hunter helped her up on shaking legs and she sat across from him once again, watching him close his breeches. 

“I hope you’re right, Bob. But honestly, Fitz is more likely to want to be a bloody martyr than to do something he thinks is dishonorable.”

“That’s why I’m not talking to Fitz about this.” Determination settled over her again. This was not the time for doubts. “Jemma thrives on logic. Give her reasoning she can’t argue with and you’ve won. Honestly I think she’s most of the way there already. Then we can talk to Fitz. All of us. He’ll understand.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am. You should learn to trust me.”

“Oh, I do, sweetheart. I do.”

By the time Bobbi was safely in her room, the household none the wiser about how she’d spent her evening, though the butler had looked askance at her when she’d shown up on her own, she felt much better.

Her maid was puttering around her room, helping her into her night rail and helping her take her hair down. It was familiar. Comforting. But it also felt so completely out of place after being with Hunter. 

Being with Hunter again had felt a lot like coming home. She wasn’t the same innocent girl she’d been, and he wasn’t the same man. They were both older, more experienced, and knew what they wanted. And it helped that they both wanted the same thing. 

“Thank you, Sally. That will be all tonight.”

Sally gave a nod before slipping silently from the room, leaving Bobbi alone with her thoughts. Being alone wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted Hunter’s arms around her, Jemma’s lips against hers, and she wanted to touch Fitz and learn how to make him moan and sigh. 

Instead the sigh was her own and it sounded rather dejected. But it wasn’t too late to claim the future they all deserved. Showing Jemma what was possible was still the preferred path. Once she realized they could all be together instead of being apart there wouldn’t be any reason to worry. Once Jemma got something in her head she wasn’t likely to let it go. Bobbi just worried that she’d feel obligated to go through with the wedding to Fitz, but for the wrong reasons. 

Just as soon as she was able to call on Jemma she’d send a note around to Hunter so they could do this together — as they always should have. And once Jemma understood — understood how Bobbi and Hunter felt and that there was no reason for them to all be unhappy — then she’d refuse to go through with the wedding. Bobbi thought for a moment about marriage and children. She didn’t know about Hunter, though given how his eyes had darkened when he’d asked her about his seed she thought maybe he did too, but she knew Fitz would want children someday if only for the succession. Though part of her knew it wasn’t only for the succession. And illegitimate children wouldn’t be sufficient. 

Yes, some sort of legal marriage was probably necessary. And even better it would keep all of society from asking too many questions. Mind settled, she relaxed against the pillows. Now all she had to do was talk to Jemma and hope it wasn’t too late.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Fitz and Jemma's wedding draws near, they both have doubts about the future. Bobbi and Hunter help them see what else can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last full chapter and I have an epilogue for next week. Hopefully you like where they all end up.
> 
> Thanks again to @agentofship!

Jemma paced back and forth, her agitation not easing even as she walked familiar paths around the greenhouse. This was her private space, the space she retreated to when she needed to think. But no matter how much she thought about this, she didn’t feel any better.

Marriage to Fitz would be better than marriage to almost any other man she could think of. They shared science. They shared a passion for understanding the world around them and making it better through innovation and invention. And she found him very handsome as well. They could be happy together. It wouldn’t be a burden to share his bed and have his children. But part of her would never be complete again.

Jemma thought again of the hastily scribbled note she’d sent to Bobbi that morning. Hopefully she was home and able to call. Jemma needed a voice of reason right now, because she was very afraid she was currently unable to be completely reasonable about her situation. Another few laps around the greenhouse and there was a quiet knock on the outer door before Bobbi called her name.

“Bobbi! I’m so glad you’re here.”

She threw herself into Bobbi’s arms and was relieved when Bobbi squeezed her back. It had been nearly a week since they’d last seen each other and it felt like an eternity.

“I can’t go through with it,” she said into Bobbi’s shoulder.

“Can’t go through with what, dear?”

“The wedding. To Fitz. I thought I could, but I just...can’t.” Now that Bobbi was here, all of the words she’d been holding inside came pouring out. “I mean, he’s lovely. No, he’s amazing and brilliant, and sweet. I’d love to work with him. He has some incredible ideas and I think I could help him make them better. And more than that, he seems to genuinely consider me an equal.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Jemma wasn’t sure but she thought Bobbi was smiling, which was not what she had expected her reaction to be.

“The problem is…” Jemma paused to think. “The problem is that it would be like cutting my heart into pieces to be so far from you. And from Hunter.”

She said the last words almost under her breath, not sure what Bobbi would think of them. They both knew Jemma had feelings for Hunter, and he for her, but with her own wedding looming in the very near future she’d started to think of Hunter as Bobbi’s. She was nearly certain Bobbi would finally agree to marry Hunter once Fitz and Jemma were gone. It almost felt like she had been in the way. That once she was out of the picture they could be together as they had been meant to be.

That thought hurt.

“Jemma...Jemma, look at me.” Jemma brought her eyes up to Bobbi’s and only realized there were tears on her face when Bobbi wiped them away. “I don’t want you to leave. I want us to be together. Always.”

Bobbi pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, tangling her fingers in her hair. At Bobbi’s warm touch Jemma melted a little, letting herself fall into the kiss, trying to convey everything she couldn’t say out loud. When they finally pulled apart Bobbi’s lips were swollen and her cheeks were pink. Jemma assumed she looked much the same. Good thing she wasn’t planning on attending any events this evening.

“We don’t have to be apart,” Bobbi whispered, pressing her forehead to Jemma’s, their breath mingling in the space between them. “I love you, Fitz, and Hunter.”

Bobbi stayed silent for a moment, letting Jemma process the words. Her smile got bigger the longer Jemma thought, as if waiting for something.

And then she understood.

“Of course. _I_ love you, Fitz, and Hunter. It’s perfect really.” She paused. “But do they?”

“I haven’t talked to Fitz about it, but from what Hunter said they do.”

Hope bubbled inside her, from her toes all the way up to the tips of her ears. She’d been so close to having everything she wanted and she hadn’t even realized it was possible. But now she knew and everything shifted back into place in a way that it never had before.

In her happiness she kissed Bobbi again, throwing herself into the kiss. Now that they were alone and she saw a path forward there was no reason to hold back, no reason to pretend to be something other than what she was -- a woman in love.

Their kisses became more heated and they both started working at buttons and laces until they could stroke across bare skin. Goosebumps erupted everywhere Bobbi touched her, her fingers sure as they moved across her shoulders, down her back, and finally towards her breasts. 

Her head fell back and her breath came faster as Bobbi touched her, before coming back to herself and redoubling her efforts at loosening Bobbi’s bodice. 

With a pleased exclamation, she closed her hand over Bobbi’s breast and tugged at the thin fabric still shielding her from view when the sound of the door opening and closing brought her back to reality. She raised one hand to pull up her gaping bodice while the other tried to corral her loose curls.

“Jemma?” It was Hunter. Her heart stopped beating wildly from fear, and started beating faster for another reason entirely. “Bobbi?”

“We’re here,” Bobbi called, before tugging Jemma close again and capturing her lips in a rough kiss. Jemma resisted the urge to straighten her clothing, acknowledging it didn’t really matter. Fitz and Hunter either loved her as she was or not at all. And this would just push them in the right direction.

Which had likely been Bobbi’s plan all along.

“Jemma?”

Her eyes fluttered open and fixed on Fitz, face flushed and eyes dark.

“I told you I enjoyed studying biology.”

He swallowed audibly and for a few seconds they were all frozen in an odd tableau.

“Bloody hell, Jemma. I thought you meant the gross kind of biology. If I knew this is what you meant I would have joined you much earlier.”

Then Fitz was moving and he pressed a kiss to Jemma’s lips before Bobbi pulled him by his cravat to nibble at his ear. As they kissed, Jemma began to feel more and more at peace, eventually crooking a finger at Hunter and giving him a wicked look.

“Not sure if anyone cares at the moment, but Fitz came to tell Jemma she shouldn’t feel like she has to marry him.”

“Oh, I -- thank you, Fitz. It isn’t that I don’t think you’d be an exemplary husband. I’m sure you would be. It’s just that there are other things — people — I want to experience and I don’t want to be unfaithful to you. I love you.” Fitz made a sound of agreement, but as he was nuzzling Bobbi’s breasts he didn’t have much more to add. “But I also love Bobbi...and Hunter. It’s all very confusing.”

“Maybe we should try to make it a little less confusing,” Hunter suggested.

“But how?” Jemma asked, her frustration creeping into her voice once again. “I can’t marry Fitz.”

“I think you can.”

Before she could argue again, he pulled her into his arms. Memories of the night in the garden rushed through her and she felt wetness between her thighs. He kissed her like he had no intention of letting her go, which made her feel much better.

“If you marry Fitz -- and after the rumors going around about the way you two were caught you don’t really have a choice -- and convince Bobbi to marry me, then polite society will be appeased and we can do whatever we want.”

“I’m certain Bobbi will marry you,” Jemma panted as Hunter’s hands moved down her body. “She’d be mad not to.”

“I’ll leave it up to you to convince her, then. She turns me down every time I ask. I’m starting to get a little discouraged.”

He made such a sad face that she started to laugh. “No you aren’t.”

She turned in Hunter’s arms, ready to start convincing Bobbi immediately of the wisdom of marrying Hunter, when she saw what Bobbi and Fitz were doing. Bobbi had undone the buttons on his waistcoat and appeared to be undressing him as efficiently as possible. Jemma’s mouth watered at the sight of them together. She wanted to join them, but she also wanted very badly to watch them. They were both so beautiful, especially among the flowers of the greenhouse.

Hunter’s hands skimmed down the front of her gown and settled on her hips as he pulled her back against him. She felt his desire as clear as her own. His breath hot on her skin, he whispered wicked suggestions in her ear that made her eyes widen in surprise and interest.

“Can we really?”

“Of course we can. We can do anything we want.”

* * *

The morning of the wedding was warm and clear and as the bride prepared for the wedding in her bedchamber -- her best friend at her side -- two unexpected but very welcome guests joined them.

“I didn’t think the groom was supposed to see the bride before the wedding,” Hunter said with a grin.

“I’m not sure that it matters since I have no intention of being faithful to you,” Bobbi tossed back over her shoulder.

“You look beautiful, Bobbi,” Fitz said, moving close enough to kiss her, gently at first and then with more passion.

“Last chance, Jemma. You can still have a big wedding if you want.”

Jemma sniffed. “No thank you. I have no intention of getting married in the ceremony my mother has planned. Gretna Green is perfectly fine. We can leave right after your wedding breakfast. One society wedding is enough for me.”

“This day is for all of us,” Fitz said. “I’d marry you all if I could.”

Jemma found herself pulled into a hug with her three favorite people. “Don’t wrinkle Bobbi’s dress,” she scolded.

Bobbi leaned forward to silence her with a kiss.

“We should make our vows to each other now...before we go out there.” Jemma suggested.

“I’ll go first,” Fitz said, moving back from where he’d been eagerly kissing Hunter. “Bobbi, Hunter, Jemma, I love you all so much. I promise to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

“And I promise that you’ll have all of my love, always. Unless we have children. And then I’ll love them all just as much,” Jemma added.

Bobbi and Hunter looked at each other for a moment before Hunter spoke. “For so long my life was missing something. I knew what it was, but I didn’t know that someday I’d find all of you. This is the best day of my life and I’m so happy to share it with you.”

Bobbi was silent until Fitz nudged her with his elbow. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to get married. I didn’t want to be anyone’s pawn. But this, the three of you, is my choice. And I gladly make it. I love you.”

Fitz sniffed, and Jemma suspected he was holding back tears. She was too, but this moment was too full of happiness to mar it with tears. “Shall we consummate our union?”

“I thought that was for tonight,” Fitz said, pinking slightly.

“Tonight would be the expected tupping of your bride --”

“Bobbi!” Hunter interjected.

“But now is for the four of us,” she finished.

Jemma kissed her quickly and whispered. “Just don’t wrinkle your dress.” 

Jemma sank to her knees, carefully arranging her skirts as she inched Bobbi’s gown up her legs. Hunter held the fabric she gathered around Bobbi’s waist while Fitz captured Bobbi’s lips. Jemma skimmed her hands over Bobbi’s stockings until she could trace her fingers over the bare skin of her thighs. She could tease Bobbi for hours -- and very much looked forward to being alone on Fitz’s estate where they could spend all the time they wanted with each other -- but today time was limited and the wedding guests wouldn’t appreciate being made to wait. Especially if they had any inkling as to the reason for the delay.

She inhaled deeply, before licking across Bobbi’s folds, smiling when her hips jerked towards Jemma’s mouth. This was still so new to them, but she’d paid attention the first time she’d done this and was certain she knew the best way to make Bobbi moan and squirm. She moved quickly, pushing two fingers into her channel as she worked her tongue over the little nub of pleasure. Moving faster, she was very pleased with herself when she heard Bobbi curse, then startled herself when she felt a warm body behind her.

Fitz’s hands skimmed over the bodice of her dress, but knowing how hard it had been for her maid to secure it over her breasts, she knew there was no way he’d be able to get it off in such a short amount of time. He seemed to realize the same thing and instead began carefully lifting her skirts. That was very much like Fitz to treat her so delicately — right up until the moment he didn’t and it led to intense pleasure for both of them. It was delightful. 

Bobbi moaned, and Hunter quickly cut her off with a kiss. The last thing they needed was for the servants to come running. Knowing Bobbi was close, she started moving faster and almost cried out when Fitz lifted her hips and was inside her in one thrust. Gripping Bobbi’s hip tightly and dropping her other hand to the floor to support herself the best she could, she let Fitz’s frantic pace drive the motion of her tongue -- over the nub, across her folds, and then stroking inside Bobbi’s channel before starting over again.

Pleasure built, hot and fast, inside her until all at once it felt like her whole body was on fire, sparks of pleasure moving over her skin as she milked Fitz’s cock. Bobbi let out a strangled moan as Fitz pounded into Jemma roughly a few more times, Hunter the only thing keeping them mostly upright.

Hunter kissed Bobbi soundly before reaching down to help Jemma to her feet as he settled Bobbi’s skirts around her, none the worse for their pre-wedding activities. When he pulled Jemma in for a kiss he moaned as well, the taste of Bobbi still evident on Jemma’s lips.

“Let me help you,” Jemma suggested, more than willing to take him in her mouth -- or anywhere else he’d like, but he stopped her from stroking him.

“No, it’s my turn,” Fitz said instead. 

Still on his knees from where he’d taken Jemma, Fitz licked his lips and looked up at Hunter. Jemma held her breath as Fitz reached for Hunter’s breeches.

“Don’t wrinkle my wedding finery,” Hunter teased.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Fitz rolled his eyes before licking around Hunter’s cock and then taking it in his mouth.

Jemma inhaled sharply, desire sparking again. She hadn’t imagined she’d take such pleasure from just watching Fitz give Hunter pleasure, but this was more than she could have imagined. They were beautiful together. All taut muscles instead of softness, every fiber of their beings drawn to each other. 

Fitz bobbed his head and Hunter moaned, tangling his fingers in Fitz’s curls. Jemma bit her lip and tried to stay still, but the temptation was too much. As much as she wanted to watch, she wanted to share in this moment as well. Bobbi reached for her hand and Jemma nearly dragged her towards Hunter.

She kissed his cheeks and as much of his neck as she could reach with his intricately-tied cravat. She stroked her hand over his stomach, before closing her hand over the base of his cock, rotating her wrist in time to Fitz’s movements. His moans became louder and Jemma squeezed her fingers tightly around him, and then she felt the pulsing of his cock as he spilled his seed in Fitz’s mouth.

Jemma met Bobbi’s eye and knew they both wished for more time. There were so many things they hadn’t been able to share yet. So many ways to bring each other pleasure that they needed to explore. As was to be expected, all they’d had time for before the wedding were hurried moments when they managed to slip away from prying eyes. And they’d never all managed to be alone together. 

“Later,” Bobbi promised.

Fitz carefully tucked Hunter back into his breeches before standing just as a knock sounded at the door.

“Miss Morse? They are ready for you,” Sally called through the door, having been warned not to disturb Bobbi’s peace before the ceremony.

“I guess this is it. Are you ready to get married, Bobbi?” Hunter asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. But I’ll do my best to make it through if there is a proper reward tonight.”

“I have some ideas,” Fitz and Jemma said at the same time.

Jemma was very interested in Fitz’s ideas. He was always so wonderfully inventive, but that could wait. Right now she needed to share Fitz, Bobbi, and Hunter with all of London so she could have them all to herself later.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after their weddings, there are some big changes coming for Fitz, Jemma, Bobbi, and Hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, I can't believe this is the last chapter. Part of me wishes I could stay here in this world forever, but I also wanted to share this with you. This chapter is an epilogue of sorts set a year later (just so we can all be assured that they are living their best life).
> 
> Thanks again to @agentofship for all of her help and for everyone who has taken the time to read <3 <3 <3

**One Year Later**

The days had become longer and lazier as Jemma’s belly swelled with Fitz’s heir. Bobbi, Fitz, and Hunter were very attentive, but their care didn’t ease the ache in her back or stop the baby from kicking her ribs. Being with child had been somehow both more and less than she’d imagined. The human body was a marvel that would probably never be completely understood, but it was also bloody uncomfortable. How women could be considered the weaker sex, she’d never understand.

The rest of the world had faded into the background, some sort of distant memory. Polite society almost certainly thought something about the four of them running away to Fitz’s estate, but if there was one thing she’d learned during her three Seasons, it was that marriage excused any manner of perceived sin. 

Likely the timing of their marriages and the way they’d disappeared together was forgotten and people assumed they were enjoying the longest house party on record. Not that she cared. Someday her child would take his or her place in society, but until then, she would happily stay here with the people she loved. 

She sat in the garden, grateful for a moment on her own. As her time came nearer, she was never left alone. Bobbi sat with her in the parlor, Fitz held her while she read in the library, Hunter accompanied her on long walks through the grounds, and at night they all cuddled together in their large bed. But now she could breathe on her own for a moment. The pain had been intensifying over the last few hours, coming quicker and sharper, and she’d snuck down to the kitchens when Bobbi had gone to change for dinner to send the footman to bring the midwife. She took deep breaths as another wave of pain hit. In some ways it was a blessing that this child would be entering the world, and in others she was more uncertain than she’d care to admit about what was to come.

While she and Bobbi both had a thorough understanding of the biology behind childbirth, or at least as much as they’d been able to glean from the medical textbooks Fitz had acquired for them, the midwife was the only one with firsthand experience, and Jemma would feel better once she had arrived. 

“What are you doing out here, love?”

Hunter appeared at the end of the path and strode towards her quickly. 

“I’m just sitting. Enjoying the — Oh!”

Pain spread across her lower back and Jemma couldn’t hold back the grimace. Hunter knelt beside her, taking her hand in his and she squeezed it until the spasm passed. 

“The midwife is here. Was there something you forgot to mention?”

Somehow he was still teasing her even though she could see the tension in his face. 

“I didn’t want you to worry. You all spoil me too much.”

“You’re the one who is with child, and we love taking care of you.”

Jemma leaned towards him to quickly kiss his lips. After today everything would change. It would no longer just be the four of them. They would have another person, a new life, to nurture and love. It would change them, but hopefully only in the very best way.

Eventually he pulled back, his eyes opening slowly. “What was that for?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now let’s get you inside before you end up having this baby out here in the garden.”

She stood on shaky legs wondering how she was to waddle all the way back to their rooms, and then let out a small gasp as he scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all. It brought back memories of the first time he’d done that, which brought a smile to her face before a grimace of pain replaced it.

* * *

They stayed by her side throughout the ordeal. The midwife had looked askance at Fitz and Hunter, but wisely decided to hold her tongue. Jemma had been ready to protest until they were allowed to stay anyway, so it was a discussion best avoided.

The room was too hot, the blazing fire in the hearth spewing heat until she’d insisted the windows be opened and fresh air allowed in. As the hours passed, she began to question every choice that had led her to this moment. By the time the baby’s wails echoed around the room and she fell back onto the bed exhausted, she was silently cursing all of them for making her fall in love with them and putting her through this, but the fact that they held her hand and stroked her hair almost made up for it. Fitz even let her squeeze his hand as the baby crowned, and she feared his bones might be broken from the strength of her grasp.

Weariness replaced the searing pain in her belly and Jemma relaxed as competent hands worked around her.

Eventually, though, the bedding was replaced, Bobbi spoke quietly to the midwife before sending her home with the footman, and the baby was placed in Jemma’s arms.

She stared at her child, downy hair and soft skin, and felt a love she hadn’t understood existed. She traced her fingers over arms and legs, counting fingers and toes as her heart beat wildly. She was a mother. They were parents. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she sniffed, blinking quickly.

“It’s alright, Jemma,” Bobbi said soothingly, stroking her fingers through Jemma’s hair. “You’ve had quite the day.”

“He’s beautiful.” She wasn’t sure what else she wanted to say, but for now that would have to do.

“You were amazing, Jemma.” Fitz sat in a chair beside the bed and reached out a hand to stroke his son’s cheek. “I love you so much.”

Hunter sat on the bed beside Jemma, and Bobbi shifted to make room for him. “Is there anything you need, love?”

She looked up for a second to meet his eye, “No. Everything I need is right here.”

“You’re quite the romantic today,” Bobbi teased.

“He’s kind of a little thing, don’t you think?” asked Hunter.

“He’s perfect,” Jemma insisted, holding the bundle a little tighter and shooting Hunter a look.

He laughed gently, before adding, “I just mean, he’s going to be an earl one day.”

“Yes, he is.” Tears shone in Fitz’s eyes as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to Jemma’s forehead.

Jemma tried to sit up to redirect his lips to hers, but couldn’t quite muster the energy. “Kiss me properly.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to —“ 

“I’m sure. I need you.”

She closed her eyes and puckered her lips, but when her mouth was claimed, it was by a pair of soft lips putting firm pressure on hers. Bobbi. She sighed into the kiss, welcoming the touch. Things would change. But not this. Never this. Bobbi at least seemed to understand. 

Hunter and Fitz both followed Bobbi’s example, and Jemma felt a little breathless for an entirely new reason.

“I love you Jemma. So much.” Fitz pressed his forehead to hers. “Thank you. For everything. For being you. For marrying me. For our child.”

It was such a sweet moment she thought they might both cry again when there was a pitiful wail from between them. “Poor baby. You must be hungry.”

Jemma had dismissed the idea of a wet nurse as soon as the midwife had brought it up. Her body was just as capable of providing for her child as another woman’s. She tugged at the loose neckline of her nightgown and bared a breast, holding the baby up to suckle. 

“About the baby,” Bobbi began. “Does anyone else think he looks a bit like Hunter?”

“Does he?” Hunter asked. “Such a handsome fellow.”

“I think so too,” Fitz agreed. “He has Hunter’s nose and eyes.”

“Those are Jemma’s ears though,” Bobbi continued. 

Jemma listened to the conversation around her as she struggled to get the baby to latch. This was natural. An instinct for a baby and mother to be able to do this. She started to get frustrated by her lack of success and the baby fussed more as he searched for sustenance. When he finally found his target, Jemma gasped, unused to the sensation. 

“Well, it seems like maybe he’s Fitz’s son after all,” Hunter commented as the baby enthusiastically nursed.

“It doesn’t matter who the biological father is. This is our baby. All four of us. To the world, he’s Fitz’s heir, but he’ll know he has four parents who love him very much.” Jemma smiled around at her family as she said the words. She was the luckiest woman in Scotland. Maybe on Earth. 

“But...what if he looks like me?” Hunter asked. 

“He certainly won’t be the first child who doesn’t look like his father,” Jemma said, gently patting her son’s back.

“Children look most like their fathers when they are newborns. Maybe he’ll start to look more like Jemma,” Bobbi said with a shrug. “Although...you and Fitz have some physical features in common.”

“That seems inappropriate to bring up at the moment, love. Jemma’s all worn out.”

Bobbi swatted at Hunter’s arm, making him laugh, and Jemma passed the baby to Fitz, who looked exceedingly uncomfortable with the small bundle. 

“Do you want us to give you some peace and quiet so you can rest?” Bobbi asked.

“No, don’t go. I need to rest, but I don’t want to be alone.”

“Then you won’t be alone.” Hunter kissed her one more time before standing and taking the baby from Fitz.

Jemma let her eyes fall closed as she listened to Hunter talk to the baby. He was comfortable for the time being and she was oh, so tired. She fell asleep surrounded by love, their family a little more complete than it had been. Once she recovered from her lying-in, maybe they could work on expanding their family a little bit more. Though from the way Bobbi had been avoiding the breakfast room she suspected they’d have another child before the year was over.

The more the merrier, though. She still had more love to give. And now that she knew it wasn’t for just one person, her love just kept multiplying the more it was shared.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
